


The Exception to Every Rule

by defenselesswriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone Is Alive, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defenselesswriter/pseuds/defenselesswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Peter wants most is to become the alpha. What he wants right after is for him to correct his mistake in biting Scott instead of Stiles. Peter gets what he wants, but it doesn't happen the way he plans for. Well, no one planned for this. This shouldn't have happened.</p><p>(This is code for: Stiles is the alpha now and maybe we should get a new motto in this town)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted a couple of previews for this on my blog and was trying to wait until I was done to post this, buuuuuuut people loved it so much (as well as me fuck I love this okay) that I decided I will post the first two chapters now. I can't promise regular updates, but I can promise it will be finished, and it will be long-ish.

The fog rolls onto the field, the lights shining brightly onto the mist and creating an even creepier effect. A dark figure walks through the fog, his front completely black because he is only lit from behind, but Stiles knows who he is, what he’s after.

Red eyes light up in the darkness, growling the only noise aside from Stiles’ own heavy breathing and the footsteps on the grass. He knows if he looks to his right, Lydia will be lying limply and looking suspiciously dead. Logically, he knows Lydia is alive. She is. But she’s dead right now. She has to be.

Stiles turns his head to check and her body morphs slowly into Scott, who is lying limp and dead on the ground. That’s wrong. Scott wasn’t here. Scott wasn’t on the lacrosse field tonight, not when Peter was.

Then the body is changing again, and it’s his dad. Stiles’ heart pounds harder, the panic spiking. His dad can’t be here. No, not his dad. His dad wasn’t supposed to get involved in this stuff in the first place and then he did. Look at him now. He’s dead. Just like Stiles’ mom, and now Stiles is alone. No, he can’t lose his dad.

Peter is standing over his dad’s lifeless body. This isn’t right. It can’t be real, but the laugh Peter emits and the blood dripping from his fangs looks real. So fucking real. But the longer Stiles stares at Peter, the more the alpha’s face starts to shift, morphing into something else, _someone_ else. The face finally stops morphing once Stiles is staring back at himself, red eyes, red mouth, fangs, and claws digging into his father’s chest.

Stiles sits up with a gasp, blinking around him to see the familiar darkness and dark shapes of his room. He reaches over and turns on his lamp. Looking around the familiarity of his room almost helps. The clock says it’s past three in the morning, and Stiles knows he won’t be getting any more sleep tonight.

It takes him three minutes to control his breathing, but he still can’t control his thoughts, the images of him being the alpha tearing into his father’s chest are still vibrant in his mind. He tries to blink them away, use his computer to distract himself by looking up what’s in processed foods so he has more ammo against his dad for eating healthy.

They images are still in his mind five hours later when he gets to school. Scott asks what’s wrong. Stiles ignores him, shrugs it off like it’s nothing because it is nothing. They’re just nightmares. There’s no way to make them go away as far as Stiles knows.

At least he can tell when they’re fake this time around.

But why they’re back to the ones about Peter, Stiles doesn’t know. Why in his dream, Peter turns into himself, Stiles doesn’t know, but that part is what freaks him out the most. It’s new. That didn’t happen before. The nightmare is definitely familiar, but Peter shifting into Stiles? That’s definitely new and definitely even creepier than just Peter.

It’s almost like his subconscious is trying to tell him something. Is Stiles evil again? Is this happening to him again? Seriously? He can’t be possessed twice. That just can’t happen. Stiles doesn’t have very good luck, but he can’t have _that_ bad of luck; he just can’t.

“Stiles,” Scott calls and for some reason it sounds like this isn’t the first time his best friend called his name.

“Yo,” Stiles says, looking up at him from his desk, blinking away his thoughts to focus on his brother.

Scott frowns slightly, looking highly concerned, but he also knows Stiles well enough to leave it be. “Derek texted me.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, confused. “Something’s wrong. What happened? God damnit. Can’t we get like a three month break or maybe a year or the rest of our lives? I feel like we’ve gone through our fair share of supernatural shit. I’m done. You done? Great. Let’s just be done.”

“It’s about Peter,” Scott says softly, glancing over at Lydia who is doodling in her notebook again. Thank anything and everything it’s no longer the nemeton.

“What about him?” Because if anyone understands Lydia’s fear of Peter, it’s Stiles.

“He’s an alpha again.”

*

The sheriff doesn’t even bother to scold Stiles for leaving school early. Almost an hour after Stiles ditches, he gets a text from his father.

**You will tell me what’s going on when you get home tonight. Curfew is still ten on school nights. And be careful, son.**

Because the sheriff knows. Stiles’ dad gets it now, and he may be more overprotective now that he almost lost his son to possession, but he knows his son well enough that Stiles will do whatever it takes to keep his dad and his friends safe. _Anything_.

“We kill him,” Stiles says like it’s the obvious answer.

“I can’t find any fault in that statement,” Lydia agrees. “And I don’t usually agree with what comes out of Stiles’ mouth.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Stiles whines, offended. “I thought we were bros now.”

She just lifts one perfectly shaped eyebrow at him and doesn’t say anything.

“We can’t just kill him,” Scott argues, and of course, it’s Scott.

“No, we can’t,” Derek sighs.

“But we can,” Isaac comments.

“We really can,” Allison says, pitching in her vote.

Derek looks over his shoulder at Erica, Boyd, and Cora who are all sitting on the couch watching the debate with uninterested faces. “You guys have a vote?”

“He’s family,” Cora says, but her tone always sounds incredibly dry and sarcastic to Stiles so he isn’t sure if she is actually putting in her vote against killing Peter.

“Boyd? Erica?” Derek questions, eyebrows raised.

They both shrug, and Derek looks like he’s trying not to growl.

Stiles bumps his shoulder with his own. “Too bad you can’t alpha them into submission to agree with you anymore.”

Derek glares, eyes flashing blue. “I will kill you, Stiles.”

“Everyone knows your death threats towards Stilinski is just your weird way of flirting,” Boyd comments.

Stiles looks at him, shocked. “That is the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say. Wow. I’m proud of you, buddy. You’re learning to speak. That’s so great. Anyway. So I’m going to give you Cora and we’ll take Erica. Boyd just doesn’t care. That makes it four towards killing him and three against. Sorry but you’ve been outvoted.”

Scott’s eyes flash red. “This isn’t a democracy, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Scotty, you can’t flash your ruby red eyes at me and expect me to submit to you. You know that’ll never work. I’ve always been the alpha of our relationship.”

Scott’s eyes fade back to his normal brown as he concedes Stiles’ point. “But this still isn’t a democracy. We don’t get to just vote on ending someone’s life.”

“Your moral compass is really exhausting, buddy,” Stiles tells him.

“Hey! What’d I miss?” Kira asks, barging through the door. She isn’t used to the supernatural and won’t skip school for it, so she’s late, but she also brought sushi with her, so Stiles doesn’t care until Scott updates her on the situation and her cute little face scrunches up and she says, “Of course we can’t kill him.”

Stiles groans and feels slightly betrayed by the sushi but eats in anyway because _sushi_.

“I vote that she can’t have an actual opinion this time because she has never met Peter let alone see what he’s done,” Lydia points out.

“Yes!” Stiles agrees enthusiastically.

“But she is an unbiased third party observer,” Scott argues.

“But her moral compass is as exhausting as yours.” Stiles just shrugs at his best friend’s betrayed look as Stiles shoves another roll into his mouth.

“So are your eating habits,” Derek growls out. “We are not killing my uncle, and that is final.”

*

People should definitely listen to Stiles a lot more often. He’s always right. All of his ideas are the best ideas, and _people should listen to him more often_.

Wanna know why?

“He has my dad, Scott,” Stiles shouts.

“Calm down,” Scott immediately soothes.

“ _I can’t calm down when a rabid alpha werewolf has kidnapped my dad, Scott. This is my dad we are talking about_.” Stiles didn’t know his voice could get so loud, but it definitely is. Scott flinches back in surprise, but Stiles doesn’t care, doesn’t have time to care. He can’t breathe. His dad is gone. Peter has his dad. What does he want with Stiles’ dad?

“Oh my god he wants me,” Stiles gasps out and the world goes black.

*

“We have to make a plan,” Derek says, and it’s the first thing Stiles hears when he wakes up.

“A plan for what?” he croaks out. “How long was I out?”

“Ten minutes,” Scott answers carefully like he isn’t sure what’s going to set Stiles off again. “I called Derek and he called everyone else. We need a plan to get your dad back.”

“Peter wants you,” Derek tells him.

“Yeah, no duh. Why else would he have my dad?” Stiles wants to growl at him. He’s been hanging around werewolves too much.

“And here we observe the Stiles in his natural habitat of snark and heavily oblivious to the palpable sexual tension,” Isaac whispers loudly.

“Shut up, Isaac,” Stiles and Derek say at the same time, snapping at the teenager. He flinches back but smirks anyway.

“So do you have any useful information?” Stiles demands of Derek. “Or is there another family member of yours out there creepily set on making me a werewolf.”

Derek growls, eye flashing blue. “ _Stiles I swear to_ – wait. What? He wants to make you a werewolf?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says because it’s kind of obvious. Everyone wants up in Stiles’ humanity. “He constantly mentions it in _casual conversation_. He almost did it once, but he needed me to find you first.”

“So Peter’s ultimate goal is to change you,” Scott starts, his thinking face on. “Then we won’t give you to him.”

“It’s not that simple,” Stiles argues weakly because he know Scott won’t listen to him. Scott would do anything to keep his best friend safe. _Anything_. “How are you going to get my father?”

“That’s why we have to make a plan,” Derek huffs out.

“And he will sniff out or hear that I’m not with you and what will he do to my father then?” Stiles is angry, and he isn’t afraid to show it. They all stay quiet because they haven’t seen him this way since the possession and that wasn’t even him. “I can’t risk my father. Derek, you of all people should get that. I’m not putting my dad in danger.”

“And we’re not letting you get turned against your will,” Derek grits out. “You of all people should get that I – we can’t lose you again to something against your control.”

Stiles isn’t sure how to respond to that. Something twists in his gut as he thinks about being possessed, how hard it was not only on him but everyone else. “I get that. I do, but this is my dad, Derek. And I will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.”

Derek has never looked angrier, and deep down, Stiles knows why and gets Derek’s point. But this is Stiles’ father, the last of his family. He can’t lose him. He can’t.

“Scotty,” Stiles says suddenly, turning to his best friend. “Isn’t it a part of your alpha powers to be able mask your scent?”

Scott nods, confused, and Derek sighs. “Do you really think that will work?” the sourwolf asks, automatically getting where Stiles is going like he always does.

“It might,” Stiles argues. “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“To try what?” Scott asks. “You guys always have these conversations that only you two understand. It’s like you’re speaking Sterek language.”

“Sterek?” they ask at the same time.

“Yes exactly,” Isaac says. “Thank you proving our point. Also, the name is from me. Scott wanted Diles. You’re welcome.”

“Shut up, Isaac,” they say at the same time again then the two of them glare at each other.

“Shut up, Derek.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“ _God I hate you_ ,” Stiles shouts. “Stop. Okay? Stop. We are doing this by my terms. Scott, do you think you could try to mask the pack’s scent until I get my father out and safe?”

“I wouldn’t be able to fight,” Scott sighs. “It would be the only thing I could do and afterwards, I would be completely drained.”

“But you have absolute confidence you could do it?” Stiles’ eyes widen as he wills himself not to hope until Scott gives him the okay to do so.

Scott takes a deep breath and nods.

“Derek, is he lying?” Stiles turns to the oldest werewolf in the room, still not daring to hope, but he’s begging Derek to let him; he needs to. He needs to know there’s a chance he can get his dad safe again.

“I need verbal confirmation,” Derek says unwillingly because he can’t say no to Stiles.

“I can do it,” Scott says, staring right at Stiles sadly like he doesn’t think the plan will work. It probably won’t.

“He’s not lying,” Derek mumbles. “And I think he could do it.”

The rest of the pack are quiet, watching the exchange with wide eyes as Stiles nods. “Okay, everyone get ready for a fight. We’re leaving as soon as everyone is ready. We’re getting my dad back tonight.”

Stiles walks out of the room, knowing everyone’s eyes are following him and one person following him. He leans against the wall in the hallway, staring at the ground.

“You’re putting yourself in danger,” Derek reminds.

The weak, useless human looks up. “You think I don’t know that? My dad can’t lose me again, Derek. I’m not going to do that to him.”

“And what happens if your body rejects the bite?” Derek yells, making Stiles flinch back. He hasn’t heard Derek be so aggressive towards him for almost a year. “Not only will your dad lose you again, but we will too. Stiles, we can’t lose you again either.”

Stiles bites his lip and takes a deep breath. “Then stop yelling at me. I’m doing this. I don’t care the risks. I would do the same for the rest of the pack.”

“You’re being a martyr.”

“Well I learn from the best,” Stiles bites.

Derek flinches like he was hit, and then suddenly everything in him deflates as he grabs Stiles and pulls him into his chest. Stiles clutches on just as tightly as the werewolf is, burying his face in the older man’s neck. They stand there for an immeasurable time, just breathing in the safety the other gives.

How many times have they saved each other at this point? Stiles knows if he’s in trouble, there’s a better chance Derek will come to his rescue rather than Scott. And his best friend is the best and will do anything to keep him safe. But Derek seems to be the one that does it more often.

And never have they just held onto each other like this. They’ve gotten a little more lax with touching, but they’re both still tense around the other like they’re prepared for something. Stiles thinks it’s more to do with that they’re both waiting for an attack all the time unlike the others who have become more relaxed. Stiles can’t forget stabbing his best friend, kidnapping Lydia and seeing her cringing and crying from fear of _him_ , planning to kill his father, and almost killing Allison.

Stiles won’t forget any of that. He needs to remember to see that it wasn’t him who did that. He fought against it as much as he could, and he still has to fight. He still is fighting. And the only one who understands that is Derek because the man is still fighting to protect everything he loves, he’s still scared someone more powerful than him will take them away. Again.

“You’re not losing me today, Derek,” Stiles whispers against the smooth skin against his lips.

The werewolf tightens his hold for a brief moment before letting the teenager go and turning around, walking back into the apartment.

*

“Stiles,” Peter greets with a grin. They’re in an abandoned warehouse because it’s Beacon Hills; where else would they be? The sheriff is in the corner, tied up with duct tape over his mouth, looking at Stiles pleadingly.

“You got me,” Stiles says. “Let him go.”

Peter smirks, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flash red. It sends a wave of fear down Stiles’ spine to see that again. It’s too close to his nightmares. “Oh, Stiles,” Peter drawls. “You _reek_ of fear, yet you can stand there and demand of me to let your father go like you have the power here. Yes, you will be a great addition to my pack.”

Stiles swallows down the lump in his throat as he steps closer to Peter, holding out his wrist. “Do it.”

“Your heart stuttered,” Peter informs him, gingerly wrapping his fingers around the human’s wrist. “You’re still frightened about this, but I can smell the excitement. You’re a weak human, always have been, but you know it better now, don’t you? That frightens you, I can tell. You want to be able to protect yourself and your father. Well, I can give you that power, Stiles. You know I can, and that’s why you want it.”

Stiles fights the urge to look away from Peter’s eyes. He won’t back down. He can’t back down. He decides his future from now on, and he is now choosing to be a werewolf. “Do. It. Peter. Then let my father go.”

Peter’s eyes flash as his fangs elongate, pulling Stiles’ wrist closer to his mouth. Stiles keeps eye contact with the alpha until the teeth are digging into his skin. Then his eyes snap shut as he cries out in pain, his dad’s muffled screams in the background and one prominent, “ _Stiles_!” from a familiar sourwolf.

Then Stiles’ eyes flash open as he feels the power surge through his veins with each painful beat of his heart. Peter drops his hand like it burned him and stares at Stiles with confusion and wonder and fear. Stiles doesn’t know why, but he’s breathing heavily. He can’t hear much over the sound of his pounding heart and breathing and the pain.

“My dad,” he growls out. “ _Get him out of here_.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It sounds more animal than himself.

Isaac yelps and rushes to the sheriff’s side. Erica and Boyd cringe, staring at him with fear and fascination. Scott stares, shocked. Kira and Allison are just confused. Derek’s face is blank.

Stiles wants to question them, but he hears the air move with a foot lifting off the ground. He spins to see Peter’s claws making their way towards Stiles. They’re moving almost in slow motion, so the teenager can easily side step away from the claws. They fall into an easy, smooth dance.

“You were supposed to be _alone_ ,” Peter growls, eyes remaining red and angry, claws still slashing. “You were supposed to be _mine_.”

Stiles snaps at his hand when it comes too close to him. “I’m no one’s slave.”

Peter roars at that, his anger increasing and this time he moves too fast for Stiles’ too see, his fangs aiming for the younger werewolf’s throat.

Someone is screaming in the background, Lydia. It’s her banshee scream, signaling someone’s death, but Stiles is too busy pushing Peter away to go off and protect whoever is about to die. Does Peter have goons already?

Then Peter is choking on something and falling to his knees. The edge of a dagger is poking out from his abdomen. The alpha looks confused as he shouts in pain.

Stiles covers his nose from the sudden burning his nostrils feel. “Wolfsbane?” he asks, looking at Lydia who is glaring at Peter’s back.

She nods once. “Enough that he should be dead right about…,” she tilts her head and watches Peter stutter, blood pouring from his mouth then she screams. “Now,” she says breathlessly when she finishes, falling tiredly back, Allison catching her easily.

Stiles tears his eyes away from the now dead alpha, eyes searching the room for his dad. “My dad?” Stiles almost wants to yell. “Where is he?”

“He’s with Scott; they’re probably almost home,” Derek chimes in, walking towards Stiles with his head tilted, baring his throat and holding his hands up like he’s surrendering. Something in Stiles calms at it, feeling immediately more at ease, and he thinks it has more to do with Derek’s posture more than his dad’s safety.

“You’re baring your throat at me,” Stiles notices. “I don’t get it. I’m higher up in the pack already? How is that possible? Werewolves, man. I don’t get it.”

“You’re an alpha, Stiles,” Derek tells him carefully.

“I didn’t kill Peter. Lydia did.” Stiles knows it’s impossible. He can only become alpha if he killed Peter, and he didn’t. He purposefully didn’t because he doesn’t want to be alpha.

Derek just shrugs helplessly. “You’re a spark.”

Erica, Boyd, Jackson, and Isaac adapt Derek’s stance, all of their necks bared, and something rumbles happily in Stiles’ chest before he faints.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek becomes Stiles' wolf Yoda. His wolf Yoda he will be. (sorry I had to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far my favorite stuff I've written. Like this chapter, man. Anyway. Yeah. This is what I posted on tumblr in pieces so if you guys came from there, well a lot of this will seem a bit familiar!

“You do have a spark,” Deaton says.

“Okay, so forgive me for not reading the fine print, but I didn’t know that translated into me becoming an alpha werewolf? I didn’t kill anyone. Am I a true alpha like Scott? Because you said that was rare and I really don’t believe that it would happen to me too; I don’t have that kind of will power.” Stiles takes a breath, trying to cancel out all the extra sounds that he’s just not used to yet. Derek and Deaton’s hearts beating steady, the cats and dogs meowing and barking in the background louder than it should be.

“Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are,” Derek chips in. He was being so quiet Stiles forgot he was there just lurking in the corner.

Deaton looks over at the werewolf and nods. “Some werewolves are born alphas or they’re passed down as they die such as what happened when Talia Hale died.”

“Laura became the alpha after the fire,” Derek fills in.

“Precisely, but there are myths of where the alpha originated. Some say that the first born werewolves were born as an omega, a beta, and an alpha,” Deaton continues on in that slightly monotone voice that’s supposed to be soothing, but Stiles is still really suspicious about him.

“But I wasn’t born a werewolf in case anyone missed that tad bit of information.” Stiles stares at the two men, confused. He didn’t even want to be a werewolf in the first place and now he’s an alpha. “So this can’t apply to me.”

“It may be a mixture of the two,” Deaton suggests. “Perhaps you have werewolf blood in you and that would explain the spark. That paired with your forceful personality and fierce loyalty to your friends and your strong desire to protect them, you seemed to have become an alpha.”

“But not a true alpha,” Stiles repeats, still confused. He rubs at his forehead, trying to calm himself down. He feels anger. A lot of anger towards Peter. He can feel claws prickling at his fingertips until there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe,” Derek reminds him softly.

And that’s all it takes for Stiles’ claws to retract. He lifts his head to look back at Derek. “Thanks. Alright. So Stiles is an alpha. That’s not gonna end great for anyone.”

“You can’t be a worse alpha than I was.” Derek squeezes his shoulder once before sliding his hand off.

“Ha, wolf’s got jokes.”

“Derek, I suggest you work one-on-one with Stiles to hone in on his skills,” Deaton says. “He needs the perspective of a born wolf and ex-alpha to ease him into this great change.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at the vet. “You’re leaving something out.”

“You will find out soon enough,” Deaton tells him calmly except Stiles can’t do calm.

Before he can stop himself, he is pushing the veterinarian up against a cabinet, an arm against his neck. “You will tell me _now_ ,” he growls out, his fangs coming out and knowing his eyes are red.

“You will release me before you get hurt, Stiles,” Deaton warns him.

“ _You’re_ threatening _me_?” Stiles grits out over the fangs. “I’ll show you, old man.” Then he is on his ass, with Deaton glaring down at him with white eyes.

“If you ever threaten me again, Stiles, I will not be afraid to fight you once more,” Deaton informs him calmly. “You are an alpha, but you have no control over me, and it will be best if you learn this now.”

Stiles takes another deep, calming breath, feeling the wolf draw back in and knowing he is baring his neck to Deaton, which makes the man step back and offer a hand that Stiles takes to pull himself up.

“Now please leave,” Deaton instructs.

Stiles nods once, turning around to the door. He doesn’t even have to look over his shoulder to know Derek is following him. Derek is _his_ beta, and he knows this, can feel it. He’s itching to ask the beta about it, but he waits until they’re in the jeep.

“You’re my beta,” Stiles says, frowning at the words. “Why was it so easy for you?”

Derek takes a deep breath, his heart speeds up. “Because you’re meant to be an alpha, Stiles. Somehow Scott is too, but you were born for it. Scott grew into it, and he still has a lot of growing to do before he is worthy of my submission.”

“How am I worthy?” The question rubs him the wrong like it was the most unnatural thing for him to say. He has this urge to push Derek into the ground and mark up his neck, showing exactly who Derek belongs to.

Derek shrugs. “I can’t explain it. You are more familiar with your wolf than Scott was; you’re not trying to deny it, and I think you’ll understand it better.”

Stiles sighs, starting up his car. “I think I understand it better now. Can we go back to my place? Just you and me?”

Derek looks over, meeting his alpha’s eyes and nods. “Not ready for the pack?”

“Not ready for your apartment to smell so much like _Scott’s_. I need somewhere that’s _mine_ right now, and I think I need you with me.” Stiles frowns at this. “You can tell me no, okay? Don’t think you can’t.”

“I’m not saying it right now,” Derek tells him softly, staring at the road. “And I understand. I was an alpha too at one point. I know that you need to be in your territory while you feel so vulnerable.”

Stiles nods slowly. “Thank you, Derek.”

*

“What do you smell?”

Stiles takes a long, exaggerated sniff and only feels about 30% of an idiot. “Umm me. I smell a lot of me. Which makes sense since it’s my room. I think that there might be some pretty old pizza between my bed and the wall.” Stiles grimaces and goes to check. “Oh, gross. I guess I have an incentive to clean my room from now on.”

Derek sits on the bed as Stiles goes to throw away the pizza. He stares at Derek, head tilted and wondering why he has so many urges towards the beta. He wants to mark and scent and so many things he doesn’t understand.

“How do you feel?” Derek asks, looking like he knows exactly what’s going on inside Stiles’ head.

“Weird. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t understand going on in my head.” Stiles stands in front of the bigger man, in between his legs.

“Just give into instinct,” Derek instructs, leaning back on his hands and looking comfortable where he is.

Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to pinpoint just Derek’s scent, which is a mixture of deodorant, laundry detergent, body wash, and aftershave. Does the beta even shave?

So without thinking about it, he straddles Derek’s hips and buries his face into the beta’s neck. It smells of only Derek there. A familiar yet unnamable scent.

“Why do I want you to smell like me?” Stiles whispers against the bare skin.

“You want me to smell like pack?” Derek suggests, his heart slightly elevated.

Stiles pulls back. “Are you scared of me?”

The beta immediately shakes his head no. “I forget you can hear my heart now. That’s how it always is around you.”

Stiles nods, knowing exactly what that means, but he can’t handle that right now. Instead, he rubs his face into Derek’s neck again, trying to rub off his scent. The beta tilts his head back, baring his neck, making Stiles growl in content. He didn’t know he could growl now, but he can, and that’s just a little weird.

“Wait. Am I interrupting something?” Scott asks from the door.

The new alpha’s head snaps up, eyes flashing red at the intruder before Derek puts a hand on his back to calm him. Once Stiles sees that it’s his best friend at the door, he can feel his eyes go back to normal and his mouth uncurl from a snarl. “Sorry, buddy. Not used to all of the possessiveness yet.”

Scott shrugs. “I totally know where you’re coming from. But I bet it’s like a hundred times worse. You didn’t get warmed up to it as a beta like I did. Just jumped straight in.”

“I don’t do anything half-assed, including lycanthropy.”

“Well, I just came to check on you. What did Deaton say?” Scott leans against the doorframe, probably hesitant to enter Stiles’ territory, which is understandable and most likely for the best; Stiles isn’t sure how he’s going to react to a non-pack wolf in his territory. Ahem. Room. In his _room_.

“What Deaton always says: _nothing_.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “He said that he thinks Stiles already had werewolf genes in him. It’s kind of how Jackson turned into the kanima at first. It just takes the shape of who he is. Stiles was bossy as fuck as a human.”

“And now as a werewolf, he’s an alpha,” Scott finishes with a small smirk. “That sounds just like Stiles.”

“Can we stop talking about Stiles in the third person? I’m right here.” He debates the merits of grinding his hips down, just to show exactly where he is to Derek, but he’s trying to hold in the sexual urges as much as possible.

“So what exactly was I interrupting?” Scott asks with a shiteating grin like he knows _exactly_ what he interrupted.

“What does it smell like you interrupted?” Stiles asks and then finds he genuinely wants to know the answer. He isn’t sure how sex and pheromones smell to werewolves yet. He kind of wants to know and kind of maybe wants to experiment that with Derek.

_Except he’s not thinking of sexual things. Priorities damnit!_

Scott sniffs the air experimentally and looks mildly surprised. “I thought you two finally got your shit together as Isaac likes to say.”

Stiles shrugs. “Nah, just scentmarking. Shit is still hitting the fan, right, Derek?”

The beta nods seriously, looking back at Scott and giving a very delicious view of his neck.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Scott says suddenly, backing out of the doorway. “By the way, your father wants you home for dinner tonight to _talk_. So good luck.” And with that, the other alpha is gone.

Derek looks back at his alpha, eyebrow raised. “Anything else instinct wants you to do?”

And fuck that sounds inviting. Stiles climbs off Derek’s lap because safety precautions. “Not that I’m ready for. Okay. Be my Yoda. Teach me wolfy things!”

 “Like?” Derek asks.

“Like to not try to rip out my best friend’s throat every time he tries to come into my room or touch you or my dad,” Stiles answers quickly because priorities.

Derek stands up, starts crowding Stiles into a corner and something in the teenager starts stirring and surprisingly, it’s not his dick. He can feel a snarl curl his lips as he puffs up his chest and growls, which makes Derek take a step back.

Stiles takes a deep breath, regaining his control. “Thank you for the demonstration. I need actual help not to be shown what I already need.”

“So control it,” Derek instructs.

The alpha can feel his eyes bleeding into red. “Okay but _how_.”

“How did you get Scott to control his shift?” Derek asks, taking a predatory step closer again.

“Heart rate control, anchoring himself to Allison.”

“So anchor yourself,” Derek tells him, another step closer.

Stiles feels the anger creeping up on him again as Derek crowds him into the corner. He tries to focus on anything else, and his mind flashes back to when Derek’s hand was on his back, Stiles sitting on his lap. He can almost feel the hand on his back, comforting and anchoring him to himself, his humanity. Then Stiles willingly steps back, leaning into the corner and looking up at the beta calmly.

Derek just smiles as he steps back. “So what’s your anchor?”

“What’s yours?” Stiles retorts.

“My family. Yours?”

“I’m not telling you,” Stiles informs him, stepping out of the corner and avoiding his beta’s gaze.

“Oh,” is all Derek says.

For some reason, Stiles thinks that Derek has already guessed it, but the alpha can live in denial. He’s really good at denial actually.

“So that’s it? I’m magically in control?” Stiles asks, sitting on the edge of his desk, waiting for something. More. It can’t be that easy.

Stiles is right. It’s not that easy. Derek just shakes his head. “It’s going to be a process. There is only so much I can teach you when it’s just the two of us. I can’t threaten you that much; it goes against my nature to challenge my alpha when you have done nothing to deserve it.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “So what? You want test subjects? Have Scott take a step in here? I’d rather use him first since he would heal faster if I were to attack.”

Derek nods. “That’s perfectly valid. There are other things I can teach you. Like shifting into your alpha form.”

That makes Stiles stand up to attention. “Alpha form?”

Another nod. “It’s the last thing you’ll learn, though. It takes all of your control, and it took me two months of practicing for me to finally completely shift. You may take less time since you’re naturally an alpha.”

Stiles is still really interested in whatever it is Derek is talking about, but he isn’t exactly sure what they’re talking about. “What is the alpha form?”

Derek’s face starts to change, his eyebrows disappearing and hair sprouting on his cheeks as fangs come out and his eyes turn blue. “This is your beta form,” Derek lisps through his fangs then changes back. “As an alpha, you have the power to shift into a full wolf.”

“What?” Stiles exclaims. “That’s fucking bitchin. Why has Scott never told me?”

Derek sits back down on the bed and for some reason that makes Stiles’ wolf very, very happy to see the beta on _his_ bed. And fuck. Is Stiles going to feel this way about all of his betas if he ever gets more?

“I told you that Scott has more growing to do, and there’s a lot he has to grow into,” Derek answers, and Stiles has never realized how much he doesn’t know about lycanthropy and how he wants to drill Derek on every single little thing he knows, but then the front door of his house opens and closes.

Stiles freezes, his metaphorical (which in the future may not be so metaphorical) hackles rising at the intruder. He listens attentively to the person walking around downstairs, going into the kitchen, and opening the fridge.

“It’s your dad,” Derek tells him softly.

Immediately, everything in Stiles relaxes. He walks downstairs, Derek hesitantly following. “Dad?” he calls out.

“Kitchen,” his dad yells back even though Stiles could already hear where his dad was.

He walks into the kitchen, his dad getting out supplies for dinner. The sheriff looks up at his son and then notices Derek not too far from him. “Am I to assume Derek is joining us for dinner?” John asks.

“If that’s okay with you,” Stiles grits out, the wolf making it harder for him to respect his dad’s authority, but he has to. Stiles may be the alpha, but his dad is still, well, he’s still his dad.

“I’m sure he will help me understand some of the things I don’t,” Stiles’ dad answers, watching his son carefully. “How do you feel about hamburgers, son?” The question is directed at Derek, who looks surprised.

“I, uh, they’re good,” Derek stumbles through.

Stiles tries to hide his smile, but looks over his shoulder at his beta with a smile anyway, gesturing for him to come closer. Derek does as he’s non-verbally told, and Stiles rests a possessive hand on the back of his neck. The teenager doesn’t understand half of his urges, but after letting his dad have the authority, he couldn’t hold back another urge. His self-control can only go so far.

His dad goes to work on putting the thawed hamburger into a bowl and adding spices. He also decides this a great time to talk. “So, Stiles. You’re an alpha?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Forgive me for my ignorance of the supernatural, but what the hell does that mean?” The sheriff’s eyes dart to Derek, only then noticing Stiles’ hand on the beta’s neck then his eyes go back to Stiles, eyebrows lifting expectantly.

“It means I’m more powerful than a regular werewolf,” Stiles tries to explain, fidgeting slightly. “A werewolf, either bitten or born, is a beta usually. The alpha power can get passed down in a family when the alpha dies or a beta can take it by killing an alpha.”

“And who did you kill?” John asks, clearly remembering that Stiles didn’t kill Peter.

“Uh, well. There’s an exception to every rule and well, Scott and I are two of them. Two different exceptions. Deaton believes I have werewolf blood in me. Not only that but alpha blood I guess? And Scott just did it by his sheer force of will to save everyone.” Stiles rambles. He knows it, so he stops himself and finally removes his hand from Derek. If he wasn’t a werewolf, he wouldn’t have heard the small whine of protest from the beta. But he is a werewolf, and he definitely heard it and is definitely ignoring it for more pressing circumstances.

His dad’s eyebrows furrow. “Am I supposed to make sense of all this?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Nope. Because I don’t. So long story short, I got bit, turned into an alpha werewolf, and here we are.”

“Why is Derek here?” and his dad always has the greatest questions, doesn’t he?

“Well he’s my beta and currently the one teaching me to _not_ rip out people’s throats,” Stiles answers smoothly even though he is really concerned why he still needs Derek around and how long that will be a thing.

“Derek is your beta?” John says slowly, digesting the information as he shapes the meat into patties. “Like a wolf pack, right? You’re the alpha; Derek’s a beta. So he follows you like a puppy?”

“Well, no.” Stiles winces at that. “He’s just here because I’m vulnerable and my wolf instincts are telling me to be around pack. You and Derek are my pack.”

“So what makes an alpha different?” The questions just keep coming.

Derek takes the reins on this one, though. “Stiles is stronger than me, his sense are more enhanced than mine, and his wolf is more territorial and possessive than mine is and probably ever was. As an alpha, I wasn’t too possessive because I was never meant to be one. He can also turn humans into werewolves with a bite.”

John pauses in making dinner to study his son for a moment. “So you heal faster, right?”

Stiles nods slowly.

“And wolfsbane hurts you?”

Another nod from the alpha albeit a confused one.

“So now you know your punishment from your father if you ever turn an underage person without their consent,” the sheriff goes on to say, going back to cooking the burgers on a skillet.

Stiles isn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t even thought about how he has the power to change someone, but he definitely knows he will never do so without someone’s consent; he’s not Peter after all. He wants to be a better alpha than that. He _has_ to be a better alpha than that.

“Yes, sir,” is the only thing he can say in response instead of _I wasn’t planning on changing anyone but that’s fair_. Just a simple affirmative. “I think between Scott and I there shouldn’t be any of that happening in our territory.” It’s surprisingly difficult to admit that he and Scott share the territory, but they do. They have to.

The conversation shifts to something easy, asking about his dad’s day at work and hearing what’s going on at the sheriff’s station. Things have been relatively calm for the first time in a while.

Once they’re all done eating, dishes in the dishwasher, then the serious conversation comes back up. “Stiles,” his dad says sharply, making the alpha look up at his father attentively. “What you did was beyond stupid and I will never be able to condone your actions from last night. You should’ve called the police.”

“And tell them Peter Hale, who was legally known to be dead at the time, was threatening to kill my father so he could turn me into a werewolf?” Stiles interrupts.

His dad sighs. “You shouldn’t have let yourself get bitten like that.”

“If I wasn’t there, he would’ve killed you,” Stiles whispers. “I can’t lose you too, Dad. I can’t.”

Then he’s wrapped up in his dad’s arms and it smells safe, like home and everything he needs. He clings to his dad, trying to make sure he doesn’t squeeze too tight since he’s stronger than he’s used to.

“And I can’t lose you, Stiles,” his dad whispers.

“You didn’t. I’m still me. I’m a lot more powerful and have thoughts and abilities I shouldn’t, but I’m here,” he tries to reassure his dad as much as he can.

The sheriff pulls back, his eyes slightly watery, the salty smell of them wafting into Stiles’ nose. “No more putting yourself in dangerous situations because someone kidnapped me.”

“Stop getting kidnapped,” Stiles orders. The two times his dad has been kidnapped haven’t ended well for Stiles. The first time, he died and came back only to be possessed by the nogitsune. The second time, he ended up an alpha werewolf, but both times his dad came out alive, so Stiles can’t regret any of his decisions.

“I will definitely do my best,” the sheriff laughs, letting Stiles to go to wipe at his eyes and peer over at Derek. “Take care of my son. Make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Derek nods once. “I don’t know if Stiles is capable of hurting innocent people, but I will teach him all that I can. For now, I think everyone would benefit from a goodnight’s sleep.”

John yawns loudly at that and then laughs once. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Stiles looks up at Derek making his way out of the house and involuntarily growls. Derek freezes, not making any sudden movements when Stiles realizes what it sounded like. “Sorry, um,” Stiles stumbles, looking at his dad, who is observing and trying to understand the situation. “I…Derek, will you stay the night?”

Derek turns, now knowing that Stiles doesn’t want to hurt him. He looks into Stiles’ eyes and nods. “I’m sure you have more questions I can answer anyway.”

“Only about a million…or five,” Stiles admits bashfully with a smile then takes a glance at his dad. “That’s okay, right?”

The sheriff nods. “I’m going to pretend there’s not going to be anything inappropriate happening in my house and please let me live in this ignorance.” And with that his dad disappears up the stairs, leaving Stiles to sputter and doing his best impression of a fish, opening and closing his mouth.

“I…we’re not… _Dad_ ,” Stiles ends in a whine and then looks over at Derek. “We’re not, okay?”

Derek smiles at him. “I know, Stiles. Trust me, I know.”

Stiles frowns at what that means but follows the werewolf up the stairs anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles practices control and then there's a meeting with a certain hunter that goes better than everyone intended. Depending on who you asked that is. If you asked Stiles, it was perfect.

“Why are you so much more confident in my abilities than you were with Scott?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs, stripping off his shirt, which distracts Stiles for a second with thoughts of marking all of that unscarred skin. Then he looks back up at Derek’s smirking face. “Because you’re much more connected to your wolf,” Derek answers. “You just showcased that.”

“Asshole,” Stiles mumbles, taking off his own shirt and jeans, grabbing a pair of sweatpants.

“Where am I sleeping?” Derek asks. “The couch? A pull out bed?”

Stiles frowns because he didn’t think about it and admits as much to his beta. “I just kinda figured you’d be in my bed I guess. Unless that makes you uncomfortable.”

Derek shrugs and shimmies out of his jeans. “It’s common for packs to be physically close. Plus you still feel vulnerable and you want your pack around so you can protect them…me.”

Stiles climbs into his bed, staying on the edge even when Derek steps closer. He usually sleeps on the edge unless Scott sleeps over, then he sleeps by the wall, but he can’t. His wolf tells him he can better protect Derek if Stiles is facing any threats.

Without asking any questions and just automatically understanding like he always does, Derek climbs over Stiles and lies down between the wall and his alpha. Stiles’ wolf calms and he can feel it curl up, comfortable enough to sleep, but he still has questions.

“So do I have to make my pack bigger? Are you and my dad not enough?”

Derek sighs, shifting around until he’s comfortable, his back against the wall. Stiles rolls over so he can face the older man. “You will have the urge to, but you can ignore it. I could’ve, but I needed a pack to fight against the hunters. I didn’t do it as well as I should’ve, but they were extenuating circumstances.”

“Will I have to bite someone?” Stiles whispers.

“Quite possibly.”

“What if they reject the bite?”

“Then that’s not your fault,” Derek answers calmly, soothingly. “There are signs that they will before you bite them, though. And it is rare that they reject the bite or are immune to it or turn into a kanima.”

Stiles nods slowly, letting the information wash over him. “How will Scott and I split the territory? Will either of us even be okay with sharing it?”

Derek shrugs. “You’ll draw up a treaty or something. You can worry about this later.”

Stiles sighs. “But I’m worrying about it all now. I feel like I was woefully unprepared to be a werewolf. I should’ve researched more.”

“You didn’t have time,” Derek tells him because logic. “You were saving your dad. At least you’re more prepared than Scott was.”

That does little to comfort Stiles because Scott started out a beta, not a full-blown alpha. It’s a bit different to just jump into this. Stiles didn’t think he could be a leader, but suddenly a swell of confidence hits him. He can do this. He can take care of his pack and his territory. And finish high school. Priorities.

The comfort takes over and his breathing starts to steady as he listens to the heartbeats from his dad and Derek, both calming and steady. Derek’s breathing starts to even, signaling him falling asleep.

Stiles curls into his beta, nuzzling into his neck, happy to smell himself lingering on Derek’s skin. He falls asleep to the comforting sounds of his dad and Derek’s heartbeats and the smell of pack on Derek’s skin.

*

There’s a weird smell in the air. It smells familiar, but Stiles can’t exactly place it as he blinks awake. He stretches, forgetting that there is an arm around his waist and he just accidentally arched against Derek and hey that’s. His butt definitely feels like it’s pressing against something hard and _oh_. That’s the smell. Pheromones. Arousal.

He freezes, listening closely. His dad is already gone. He woke up a few hours earlier when his dad started moving around in the kitchen then went back to sleep. Derek’s breathing is even, his heart is steady; he must still be sleeping.

Stiles isn’t entirely sure what to do in this situation, so he runs away. Okay carefully. He doesn’t just run. He slips out from underneath Derek’s arm, who immediately whimpers, so Stiles runs his fingers through the beta’s hair and the man calms down, relaxing into the bed again.

Once he has escaped, he isn’t sure what his next move should be. He decides a shower is a good idea. Yes, get out of the room. The smell of Derek’s arousal is getting kind of hard to resist and Stiles has no impulse control anyway. So yes. Out of the room is his best idea ever in his entire life.

And maybe he jacks off in the shower. Whatever. It doesn’t matter, okay? He keeps an ear out for Derek, who doesn’t wake up the whole time, and it’s so weird that he can hear that now. And maybe way too comforting. His mind keeps throwing around a certain word that Stiles isn’t about to admit to. He can’t. He has so much to worry about right now; he can’t worry about his love life.

It’s just his luck that Derek wakes up when Stiles walks into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. The smell just gets stronger before Stiles realizes his beta is awake. He looks over at Derek, eyes wide.

“This is weird,” Stiles tells him. “I shouldn’t be able to smell that or hear your heart elevated. I’m not sure what to do about this.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, his hair sleep mussed and he looks way too adorable. “You can do whatever you want to about it,” and that should not sound as appealing as it does.

Stiles clears his throat and grabs a pair of boxers out his dresser, pulling them on underneath the towel. Then he throws the towel towards his hamper before pulling on a t-shirt, jeans, and a plaid shirt. Without saying anything, he goes back to the bathroom, doing what he can to his hair, which translates into nothing. His long hair listens to no man.

When he comes back, the smell is only lingering in the air and is slightly masked by Derek’s embarrassment, the werewolf already dressed. His head is ducked and his cheeks are tinged red.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate to go up to him and tilt the beta’s head up to look at him. He wraps an arm around his waist and slides his hand onto a stubbled cheek. “Derek, don’t be embarrassed,” Stiles tells him softly. “Don’t think it’s not reciprocated because it totally is. I just can’t focus on that right now, okay? I need to get in control of myself before I can touch you like that. It’s too much like the nogitsune where I have to fight myself to not do certain things. I can’t explain it very well, but please don’t be embarrassed around me.”

Derek just nods, leaning into Stiles’ hand and closing his eyes. Stiles has never wanted to kiss him more, but he knows if he gives into that he will never be able to stop touching Derek.

“I understand,” Derek whispers. “Being an alpha. There’s so many urges and you have to learn to control them. I already called Cora, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. We’re going to meet in the preserve in twenty minutes. The new bitten wolves still need to learn control too and you guys can help each other.”

Stiles smiles softly as Derek opens his eyes to look at him. “You know if I ever have like a big pack with like a million werewolves, people, whatever, you will still be my favorite.”

Derek snorts once. “There’s a name for that.”

“Is there?” Stiles asks.

“Right-hand,” Derek answers. “I’m your right-hand.”

It’s really bad that Stiles’ mind goes into the sexual implications of that, but he shakes it off. “Good to know. We should probably leave now.”

Neither of them make a move to separate, so Stiles leans closer and nuzzles Derek’s neck, trying to convince himself it’s only for scent reasons and that he just wants Derek to smell like pack. There’s absolutely no other reason. There _isn’t_. Shut up.

“Alright we need to actually go now,” Stiles says, taking a step back from Derek to go grab his shoes. They go downstairs and get into his car in silence. Derek only speaks to direct Stiles to the correct part of the preserve. He parks and then they walk.

Derek stops him with a hand to his chest. “Listen. Smell.”

Stiles gives him a look before doing as he asked. He can hear Derek’s heartbeat, but he can hear more than that. He can hear the birds in the trees and their faster heartbeats but tunes them out because he doesn’t think Derek stopped him to listen to the wildlife. He can hear four stronger heartbeats, humans most likely. Then he uses his nose. He can smell Derek, his scent on Derek, which is good. Perfect even, but again. That’s not the point of this impromptu break.

There’s something else, something that smells kind of like Derek. It’s wilder, more wolf than human, and then Stiles gets it. That’s how they can distinguish humans and werewolves.

Instead of saying anything, Stiles just starts running towards the betas, knowing exactly who each of them are, knowing their scent even though he’s never smelled them before. Not like this at least.

He stops once he’s in the clearing and they all stare at him, none of them saying anything. His eyes flash red at Isaac because he smells so much like another werewolf and Stiles’ wolf is growling, thinking there is a trespasser on his land.

That’s when Derek’s scent hits him and he turns to see the man entering the clearing, watching Stiles carefully. That’s also when Stiles realizes his fangs and claws are out, so he takes a deep breath to control his shift back into human.

“Sorry,” he says softly to Isaac. “You smell like Scott’s beta.”

“I probably shouldn’t have called him,” Derek says as he walks up to Stiles’ side. “Erica, Boyd, and Cora haven’t fully submitted to Scott so they don’t smell like _his_.”

Cora wrinkles her nose. “But boy do you smell like Stiles’.” Her eyes flash in amusement, and Stiles wants to get defensive but he just gives Cora a smile.

“We did sleep together,” Stiles informs them.

“ _Finally_ ,” Isaac cheers while Erica laughs and Boyd looks slightly uncomfortable.

Cora laughs but for a different reason. “Isaac, use your nose. They didn’t _sleep_ together. They just slept.”

Isaac sniffs and then looks disappointed. “Oh my god when are you guys to figure your shit out?”

“We figured it out,” Derek tells him. “We figured it out that it’s none of your fucking business. Now we are going to get to work.”

“Mm you bossing people around is hot,” Stiles comments with a waggle of his eyebrows. “But I don’t suggest you try bossing me around.”

Derek flashes his teeth at him as a joking threat. “Wouldn’t think of it, Alpha Stilinski.”

Stiles flinches at the name, all the air whooshing out of him because fuck that’s kind of really hot and it shouldn’t be. He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Okay, Derek. Teach us things.”

Derek rolls his eyes as does Cora probably because she doesn’t need to be taught anything. Stiles doesn’t actually know why she’s here, but he has wolf classes to concentrate on.

“A big step in learning control is shifting when you want, not when provoked,” Derek tells them, shifting his face into his beta form and then back.

Stiles watches as the betas try to. Cora’s is already out and she just relaxes against a tree, watching the others try to get theirs out. Boyd does it first, Erica soon to follow after some hard work. Isaac’s control is usually the best and he can shift out of his beta form easily but getting into it is more difficult for him.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Stiles easily shifts his face, feeling his fangs elongate, his claws coming out of his fingertips, and his vision enhancing which usually means his eyes are red. He looks back at Derek, trying to smirk as much as he can over his fangs. Derek arches an eyebrow and looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Stiles shifts back so he can laugh at himself then sees Isaac getting a hang of shifting in and out of his beta face. It’s so trippy to watch them turn back and forth. It’s like watching a movie with horrible graphics, but it’s real. It’s so real. No special effects, no CGI.

“Alright next I want you guys to control just your eyes,” Derek instructs. Erica tries it, but her fangs come out. Isaac tries but his sideburns grow in. Boyd does it once and then stops, looking bored. Stiles looks directly into Derek’s eyes and flashes his red eyes. Derek’s automatically flash blue back, making Stiles smile back.

The rest of the morning passes along like that then they stop to rest and chill. Stiles looks around at them, sniffing slightly to get used to the scents and something has changed in Boyd and Erica’s. He doesn’t know what, but for some reason, they’re sitting closer to him than anyone else. Cora watches them with interest then meets Stiles’ gaze. She walks over and sits in front of him nonchalantly while Isaac stays off to the side.

The teenagers start discussing class stuff and homework assignments while the Hales remain quiet, observant. Stiles finds himself leaning against Derek’s side as the conversation goes.

“Okay, so I’m not the only one really weirded out that Lydia’s mom is our new physics teacher?” Stiles asks, feeling somewhat relieved. “Because it’s real fuckin weird.”

Erica laughs. “You can definitely see where Lydia got a lot of her mannerisms.”

“But not her ingenuity,” Boyd snorts.

Stiles laughs at that, his head tilting against Derek’s shoulder, and for the first time since turning, he doesn’t feel on edge. He feels comfortable and safe. Not even Isaac’s smell of _Scott’s_ is bothering him.

“Alright we need to get going,” Derek announces. “We have more plans for the day.”

Stiles looks up at him confused. “We do? But I was having fun. I’m not even getting sunburned anymore!”

“We have a meeting with our resident hunter,” Derek tells him, not sounding pleased about this at all, which makes sense that the werewolf would never want to see the brother of the woman who killed his whole family.

“Why do we have a meeting with Chris?” Stiles asks, trying to be mad, but he knows that Derek wouldn’t make this happen if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and out of the few people Stiles trusts anymore, Derek makes top three right under Scott and his dad. But it doesn’t make the idea of a meeting with a werewolf hunter any more ideal.

Derek sighs, standing up and offering a hand to help Stiles up. It’s when Stile is being pulled up that he realized how many people he was in contact with while sitting on the ground. Erica had been leaning against his side, Boyd behind her with a hand to Stiles’ shoulder while Cora’s legs had been tangled in his. He isn’t sure what this means, but he kind of misses all of the physical contact immediately. He debates the merits of ignoring Derek and getting back on the ground and hanging out with the group, but he’s an alpha now; he has responsibilities.

They say goodbye to everyone and jog back to the car. Stiles isn’t even slightly winded when they get to his jeep and it’s a different kind of wonderful. Once in the car, Stiles starts up his investigation. “Why am I seeing Argent?” he asks again.

“You’re a new alpha in the territory,” Derek answers stiffly. Stiles reaches a hand over to brush back his hair as much as he can while he drives then leaves his hand on the side of Derek’s neck, which the beta relaxes into slightly. “He’s the hunter in the territory. It’s custom that the two of you have a meeting and discuss boundaries and such.”

“I definitely feel like this is something I need to discuss with Scott first considering it’s his territory currently.” And isn’t that something that gets his hackles to rise. He has an urge to fight the other alpha, fight for his territory.

“I tried to postpone it,” Derek sighs. “You know Argent though. He doesn’t exactly take no kindly when it comes to my – _our_ kind.” Derek fixes the correction so quickly Stiles debates if he actually heard it but he did. It makes him slightly happy to finally be included in werewolf things, but he didn’t want to be this involved (read: he didn’t want to be the alpha now).

Stiles sighs, pulling up in front of the Argent house that’s bordering on being a mansion and narrows his eyes distrustfully at it. A wave of gunpowder hits his nose so hard he coughs for a second. “Shit, I never realized how powerful of a smell that was,” Stiles says, voice rough.

Derek starts to get out of the car, but his alpha stops him with a hand to his chest. “Let me get used to my surroundings and to get used to what I’m getting myself into,” Stiles instructs, listening closely. He hears two heartbeats, knowing one of them is Chris but not knowing who the other is. “Do you know who the other person is?”

“Allison,” Derek answers easily.

That’s when Stiles sees her car in the driveway and duh. A+ detective skills, Stiles. Really. He still doesn’t let Derek out of the car yet because he’s still observing. The smell of gunpowder is still strong, but underneath it is the familiar burn of wolfsbane. He doesn’t sense any threats, though. Argent isn’t planning to attack him; it really is just a meeting.

So Stiles removes his arm and jumps out of the jeep, Derek following him up the path to the front door. He doesn’t knock, just waits until Argent opens the door because he knows Argent knows they’ve been there the whole time. The hunter is observant like that.

The door opens to Chris Argent and his daughter standing closely behind him with her big smile and dimples while her father is glaring slightly at the teenager.

“Hey, Stiles!” Allison calls cheerfully and just raises an eyebrow when her dad turns back to glare at her.

“Allison, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” Stiles tells her with a smile then nods his head at Chris. “Argent.”

“Stiles,” Chris greets in the same, flat tone with a nod of his own. “Derek.”

Derek doesn’t say anything but then there’s a hand on the small of Stiles’ back. Chris steps to the side to let them into the house, leading them to the couch in the living room, the werewolves taking up one couch and the hunters sitting in the one across from them.

“First of all,” Argent starts out before Stiles holds up a hand.

“First of all,” Stiles tells him, voice strong and confident like he’s never heard from himself. “Next time you want a meeting, I expect you go through me, not Derek. As much as I appreciate Derek’s interference, you will do well not to forget who the alpha is in this pack.” He leans back, letting Argent sink in the information. “Second of all, this meeting will discuss nothing of territories since I have yet to have a chance to discuss this with the other alpha and that is a discussion I need to have with Scott, not a hunter. Third of all, I can’t imagine what you have to discuss with me. I know the hunter’s code, the one your family has difficulty following, and I know Allison’s new code. I will follow both and you didn’t have to fluff your peacock feathers at me to threaten me into doing so.”

Once Stiles is done with his speech, Chris looks furious while Allison looks proudly over at her boyfriend’s best friend. Neither of them look like they’re going to add anymore to the conversation, so Stiles stands up. “Thank you for inviting me into your home. I also quite appreciate the strong scent of gunpowder and wolfsbane. It’s just as threatening as you hoped it would be. Don’t worry yourselves,” he says when the hunters move to stand up with Derek. “I’m sure that Derek and I can find our way out. It’s not the full moon yet. We’re not quite the mindless animals you think we are all the time.” And with that he’s through the door.

When they’re in the car, Stiles lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looks over to check on Derek, who just looks back amused. “You handled that well,” Derek tells him.

“Could say the same about you.” Stiles makes sure to check all of his senses to make sure Derek is okay. Heartbeat steady. No strong emotions wafting off of him not that Stiles is sure he would know which emotion connects with which smell. But it’s a relief to know Derek’s okay.

“You didn’t really let him talk,” Derek comments, not sounding annoyed or upset with that notion at all.

Stiles shrugs as he starts up his car, heading back to his house because Derek doesn’t give him other instructions and also he’s _starving_. “He had nothing of importance to say to me. Once we stepped inside I knew it was all a show for him to intimidate me, and that’s not gonna happen. What I said about the territory business is true, and when Scott and I have that figured out, we will all sit down for a meeting, but right now it’s just a waste of my time when I could be cooking us breakfast. So what do you say?”

Derek is silent for a few moments before allowing a small smile to cross his lips. “I say that breakfast sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look a timely update. A+ for Mandi! My chapter summary for this one sucks but ignore it. I'm not good with summaries and chapter two had a summary so I felt like it was a thing I should keep up. I guess it's a thing in this story. Whatever. Hope you liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyd and Erica aren't exactly part of Scott's pack, so who's pack are they part of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worst chapter summary ever. Idek anymore.

Stiles goes back to school the next day because apparently his dad (with Derek’s advice) thinks he has enough wolf control to go after one day of learning said control. Derek thinks he can do it, which should be a vote of confidence, but Stiles still isn’t sure. He still remembers when Scott tried to kill him in the locker room. That still isn’t a fun memory. He’s not laughing over it yet.

But Stiles listens to his father (and Derek) and goes to school the next day. It’s loud. Really fucking loud. There are noises literally everywhere. Derek suggested he bring a pair of headphones, so he did. He didn’t expect to need them so soon, but he puts them and it’s marginally better. He can actually focus on what is going on around him instead of being bombarded by noise.

Once he gets to school, he’s surrounded by Erica, Boyd, and now Cora who has decided to go back to high school. Stiles isn’t sure she decided. He’s sure that it was more of Derek forcing her to finish her education and then go do whatever she wants. Okay so being surrounded by werewolves isn’t usually weird for him. It’s that it’s these three specifically. Scott is avoiding him, and he’s avoiding Scott; they texted each other earlier and decided it was for the best until they could talk it out in neutral territory.

Stiles knew that the three betas hadn’t totally submitted to Scott. They were there for more of a lack of another alpha or place to go and that it’s safer to be in a pack rather than an omega like Jackson chooses to be. But they were hanging around Stiles like all the time.

As they walk down the hall, Erica has her hand in Stiles’, plastered against his side while Boyd walks on the other side of him and Cora behind. It’s kind of like a pack. Stiles isn’t sure what to think, but he may or may not be enjoying the looks people are giving him and Erica because they definitely look like they’re together.

“Hey, so during lunch we should totally make out,” Stiles whispers to her. “You know, make the rumors true.”

Boyd lifts an eyebrow at him, and Stiles just smiles back at him. “I’m the alpha, right? I get to do what I want.”

“Sorry, babe, but you don’t get to do me,” Erica snarks back, running a hand through his hair. “That’s Boyd’s job, and he does it very, very well.”

“Okay!” Stiles shrinks in on himself. “Not only a blow to my self-esteem from your rejection, Reyes, but also too much information on your sex life. No more joking around with you. Cora, can I joke with you?”

The look Cora gives him says more than she ever could. _Try it and I’ll bite your finger off, Stilinski_.

“Boyd?” Stiles asks, feeling slightly desperate. “What kind of fun are you guys if I can’t joke around? You take things too seriously.”

“I was joking back,” Erica offers. “I don’t know why you don’t want to with me.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at her and points an accusing finger as they sit down in their physics class, the first of the day. Gross. “Because you, missy, fight dirty, and frankly it frightens me.”

Erica’s head snaps back as she laughs loudly, causing Stiles to _want_ something. Not her. Well yes her. But not sexually. As her head is tilted back, he runs a hand down her bared neck, and she immediately stops laughing, letting out a breath.

Quickly, Stiles takes his hand back. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Scent marking,” Cora answers from behind him, leaning closer and watching him with even more intensity than Derek ever has. “You want to scent mark your pack.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he tells the beta, rolling his eyes. “I know a little something about how this works, but Erica isn’t pack. She’s Scott’s, right?”

That’s when Cora’s eyes switch their intense gaze over to Boyd and Erica who are looking right at Stiles. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Stilinski.”

Then Stiles knows what he was smelling yesterday at the clearing after they were done training. Fuck. The bell rings which is painfully loud even with the headphones on.

“Headphones off, Stiles,” Mrs. Martin chastises him as she walks into the classroom.

“Yes, ma’am!” he calls out weakly as he pulls them off, working on blocking on the excess noise. Then he looks over at Boyd and Erica and hisses, “We will talk about this later.”

They nod their agreement, but Erica flashes a smile at him, and Boyd. Well. Boyd looks a little more approachable than usual. Something is happening, and Stiles doesn’t want to sit through class anymore; he wants to know for sure what is going on right now and not have to guess about it until probably lunch.

Stiles sighs, his impatience hitting him tenfold as he rests his forehead against the desk. When he looks back up, Scott is giving him a goofy smile and waving. Stiles smiles back with a wave because he does miss his best friend and wants to be able to hang with him again soon.

But he has to wait. Like he does with everything else.

*

Even at lunchtime they don’t exactly have the time or privacy to bring it up. Isaac and Scott are in the same room and can hear whatever they talk about and vice versa, so all Stiles says on the subject is, “Meet me at my car after school. We’ll go to the preserve.”

Once school passes, Stiles walks straight to his car, the betas already there. Surprisingly, Cora is waiting too. He sends a quick text to Derek where to meet them before they all hop in his car, and Stiles thinks about what accessory his pack should have. Derek’s had the leather jackets. Do the betas still have those? Because if they do, Stiles could totally get them sunglasses and they’d all just be rockin’. Wait, does that mean Stiles needs a leather jacket too? He really didn’t think this whole alpha thing all the way through. There’s so much he’s so unprepared for. _He doesn’t have a leather jacket_.

“You do know you can be an alpha without a leather jacket, right?” Cora snarks from the front seat.

Stiles glances over at her and resists the urge to flail. “Can you read my mind?”

Erica snorts while Boyd is the one to answer. “No, you were just mumbling incoherently and all we really caught was ‘I don’t have a leather jacket. I’m the worst alpha. _I don’t have a leather jacket_.’”

“Well I don’t,” Stiles informs them, ignoring that his face is heating up. He puts more focus into driving because his jeep isn’t going to make fun of him for his lack of cool jackets. The people in the jeep remain quiet until they hit the preserve. Stiles jumps out, the rest of them following him closely.

Derek is already waiting for them like the diligent beta he is. As a greeting, Stiles runs his fingers over his beta’s neck, watching the man shudder at the touch. Stiles tries not to smirk too much when he pulls back as the rest of them circle around the two of them.

“So,” Stiles starts off eloquently. “We’re here to talk, I guess.”

“Obviously,” Cora says, voice drier than the Sahara.

“Thank you, Cora, for your input,” Stiles sasses back, eyes narrowing slightly. “Anyway. Our talk. Super important, okay? So listen up. Erica, about today in class.”

“What happened in class?” Derek asks, tone slightly worried.

“I tried to scent mark Erica,” Stiles answers easily and tries to move on with the conversation. “So, Erica, on a scale of one to ten how okay was that with you and your wolf?”

Erica laughs at the wording then thinks about the question. “I’d say about a seven for me and a ten for my wolf.”

Stiles nods, taking the information seriously. “And you, Boyd? I know I didn’t accidentally molest your neck, but what if I did?”

Boyd glares at Stiles like he can’t believe he has to actually answer this stupid question. “It would be fine, Stiles. Erica and I have already talked about this.”

Stiles nods, taking the information seriously but wait _what_. “You didn’t happen to talk about this at school where Scott and/or Isaac could hear you, did you?”

They both look slightly guilty, and Stiles sighs his defeat of keeping this from his best friend. “What did you guys discuss?”

“That we’re both on board with pledging our allegiance to you,” Erica answers, and Stiles has never seen her more serious.

He still snorts anyway. “I’m not a flag.” Even though the words Erica said play through his head over and over, making his wolf grumble in happiness. He has a pack. His very own pack. That’s his. Not Scott’s. Not Derek’s. _His_. And he feels oddly proud of his three person pack, but then he sends a question glance to Cora.

“Not to say I don’t enjoy your presence because I most definitely do, but why are you here, Cora?” Stiles asks her, leaning against a tree.

“Surveying my options,” she tells him honestly. “I know I’ll never be part of Scott’s pack, but I haven’t ruled you out yet. Derek seems content where he is, and I’m taking it into consideration.”

Stiles nods. “Fair enough. I don’t know what to do now. Is there some wolfy initiation ritual?” He looks over at Derek for the answer, who is looking slightly like he wants to laugh.

“No, Stiles,” he answers. “Werewolves really aren’t that different from humans.”

Stiles shrugs because how would he know? He has only been a werewolf for like three days. Then he freezes. It’s only been three days. Why does it all feel so natural for him? Hearing things he knows he should not be hearing, like the engines of the cars driving down the road that’s a mile from the clearing they’re in or any of the werewolves’ heartbeats. These are not things he should be accustomed to hearing, but he is. Sometimes it’s overwhelming like at school, but other than that, he feels like he’s in control that he has control over his mind again.

He risks taking a look over at Derek, allowing himself to think whatever he wants about the man. He allows himself to admire Derek, his looks but also the ally and friend he found in the beta before he even became an alpha. He isn’t sure why nothing happened between them then. Maybe it was because Stiles was a weak human. But it was more likely that neither of them were ready to start anything because they both know once they’re with each other, there’s not going to be anyone else. Maybe that scared Stiles. Hell, it still scares Stiles, thinking that he hasn’t wanted anyone else since he met the werewolf. And now that he’s a wolf, he can smell and hear Derek’s attraction to him, and that’s really distracting. Stiles wasn’t ready for anything, and he knew that, but now that he has control over his own mind and actions? Maybe. Maybe he could do it.

After a long silence of Stiles just staring at him, Derek looks back, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion before his face relaxes with understanding. And that’s what throws away all of Stiles’ doubts. No matter how obscure, vague or weird his thoughts are, Derek will understand him. Sometimes it takes him a bit to catch up, but he always does, and feeling understood is what Stiles has been waiting for all these years.

“Oh God gross,” Cora complains. “Eye hump each other later.”

Stiles smirks at his beta before putting his attention on Cora. “I’m not sure that’s the kind of humping we’ll do later.”

She glares at him before stalking off, but she stops before she leaves the clearing. All of the werewolves pause, listening to the newcomers running towards them.

“Scotty,” Stiles announces or greets; maybe a bit of both. He knows why his friend is here, but he doesn’t exactly expect the claws and fangs to already be drawn once the alpha is in the clearing. “Whoa, dude. What the hell?”

The true alpha growls, eyes flashing. “How long have you been planning to steal my pack?” Scott gets out, his voice deeper than usual.

Derek steps closer, but Stiles stops him with a gesture of his hand as he steps closer to his best friend. “Scotty, it’s not like that, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Scott growls. “Everyone always treats me like I know nothing. Is that why you think I don’t make a good alpha?”

“Of all the people who thought you were stupid, was I ever one of them?” So maybe he’s hoping logic will reach his friend. It probably won’t, but hey no one can say he didn’t try. “Scott, you know I think the highest of you. I’ve never thought of anyone as highly as I do you.”

Scott takes a step forward, Isaac behind him looking just as threatening, and Kira just standing off to the side looking confused because she doesn’t understand the territorial urges wolves have. Stiles takes a small pity on her, and if Scott is too far gone to hear what she has to say then he’s pretty far gone. He expects Allison isn’t far behind and takes a moment to listen. She’s hidden in the trees very well, but Stiles can still hear her heartbeat, but he doubts any of the betas can.

“Scott, can we just talk it out?” Stiles asks.

A growl is his answer, so Stiles takes it as a no and prepares to fight. But then Scott flashes his red eyes at someone directly behind Stiles. The new alpha doesn’t have to look back to know that Scott just threatened Derek.

“Oh, hell no,” Stiles says, feeling his face shift. “Are you seriously trying to get Derek to join your pack? Derek is _mine_.” The last word may actual be a growl, but it doesn’t really matter since in the next second, the two best friends are on each other, snarling and clawing at what they can reach.

Nothing matters outside of this fight. Stiles only knows he has to protect his pack and territory from the threat of another alpha. He isn’t aiming to kill, but a part of him still realizes this is his best friend, his brother, but he isn’t playing nice. He grabs the back of Scott’s head, slamming the true alpha into the ground and pinning him down, fangs poised right over his throat.

Scott doesn’t give up, though. Scott doesn’t submit; he never does. Taking Stiles by surprise, he flips the two of them over so that Stiles is on the forest floor, but Stiles isn’t letting himself be pinned. He moves around too much for that and finally flings Scott off of him.

In the background, he can tell the betas are just standing there and watching the alphas fight. Stiles is thankful they’re not fighting because he doesn’t know if he could focus on the fight if Derek was even in the slightest hint of danger.

“ _Scott_ ,” Stiles yells as he pins his brother again. “What the hell?”

“You’re taking over my territory and ripping my pack apart,” Scott growls out. “You’re my brother, Stiles. Why are you doing this to me? I trusted you.”

“And you still can,” Stiles tells him, begs of him almost. “And I get it. Trust me I do. I get the territorial feelings too. I’m an alpha in case you forgot.”

“That’s the problem,” Scott yells, struggling against Stiles’ hold, but for now, Stiles is the stronger of the two. “You’re an alpha now. I can’t share my territory and pack with you, Stiles. You _were_ my pack.” His eyes flash over at Boyd and Erica. “You two were too.”

Stiles sighs, putting his forearm against Scott’s neck, holding in place as he looks him right in the eye. “Did you ever feel them submit to you? They were your pack because it’s better than being an omega. I’m not going to apologize for them choosing me over you. Now stop, Scott. We need to stop fighting.”

“They’re only submitting to you because you and Derek are fucking,” he bites out and then all hell breaks loose.

Stiles can hear Derek growl in the background, but it’s a little overshadowed by Stiles’ roar. It’s one thing insulting Stiles or fighting Stiles, but once the attention drifts to Derek, the new alpha goes a little crazy.

He grabs Scott’s shirt, slightly surprised the fabric doesn’t rip with his grip, and slams Scott back down onto the dirt. His eyes are red; he knows it. He was trying to keep control, but now he kind of can’t. He can’t even gain control when he hears the grotesque, distinguishable sound of bones crunching and Scott hissing in pain.

Scott gets even angrier, which Stiles didn’t know was possible. The anger allows for Scott to flip Stiles over, the true alpha pinning him and claws tearing through plaid fabric. Damn. There goes one of Stiles’ favorite shirts, but he can’t exactly care about at the moment when there’s a feral alpha above him, demanding for submission, something Stiles isn’t willing to give.

“Why do you think Kira is in _your_ pack?” Stiles growls back, knowing Scott has the upper hand. For now. “Because she’s fucking you.”

Scott’s reaction is very similar to Stiles’, a roar, which allows for Stiles to get back to upper hand by rolling out from underneath his best friend. He stands up, waiting for Scott to jump back up. When his best friend is back on his feet, Stiles goes for him again, punching him in his stupid, crooked jaw.

The true alpha staggers back, losing his footing slightly before trying to tackle Stiles, who steps out of the way. Stiles’ forearm catches on Scott’s throat before he pins the alpha down again.

His fangs are inches from his best friend’s throat when a familiar voice breaks through his slightly murderous haze.

“ _Enough!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me almost as hard as the boys are fighting. Ugh I'm so sorry I'm horrible at fight scenes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles stop fighting because it's doing nothing productive. Stiles receives a threat from a very well known bad guy. All in all, just another day in Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo. Here's a thing. This will now be regularly updated on Fridays! How great. A schedule. I can stick to it *sweats nervously* I CAN STICK TO IT.

“ _Enough!_ ” the voice shouts, and when Stiles looks up, he sees Derek glaring at his alpha, which makes his wolf want to attack the beta for challenging him, but then he just backs down from the fight. His claws and fangs retract, his eyes returning to their normal color as he stands up.

“Truce?” he offers, holding out his hand for his best friend.

Scott studies the hand and sighs, allowing himself to be pulled up.

“So how are we going to not fight about this constantly?” Stiles asks, going to lean against Derek, feeling more tired than he’s willing to show.

“Make a treaty, dumbass,” Derek deadpans.

“I am your alpha,” Stiles sneers at him, half-heartedly. “Show me some fucking respect.”

What he doesn’t expect is a big hand to hit him in the back of his head. He playfully flashes his eyes at his beta who just shrugs. “That good?”

Stiles rolls his eyes but looks back at his best friend who is just watching them with an understanding on his face. “Oh my god you two are actually fucking? I thought that was just something my anger made up.”

Stiles tries not to blush like the blushing virgin he is. “We’re not fucking, Scotty,” he says at the same time Derek growls out, “It’s none of your business.”

Scott holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, a treaty?”

Stiles nods, plucking his phone from Derek’s pocket. He’s not entirely sure how it got there, but he has his suspicions that Derek took it before the fight so Stiles wouldn’t break it. What a thoughtful beta he has. “Thanks,” Stiles mumbles to him before walking towards Scott, everything still hurting, but he can feel it healing. “Let’s get craking.”

They start hashing out stuff. At first Scott doesn’t want to give up anything. It takes a lot of time to convince him otherwise.

“The preserve is mine,” Stiles tells him straight out. “Everything that is owned by the Hales, is my territory. You can have the town, but from the sheriff’s office through the forest is mine. That lets you protect the people as much as you want.”

“Do I have to ask your permission to enter the forest every fucking time?” Scott sneers. “That doesn’t sound exactly fair since we’re werewolves too. We need the forest.”

“You have to get my permission a week in advance before you or your betas steps foot on any of the Hale property,” Stiles instructs, not willing to budge on this. “That is the only place you have to ask permission for.”

Scott narrows his eyes, clearly not liking that he has to split the territory, but it’s the only way to keep the peace. Derek disappeared a few minutes ago, returning with a map of Beacon Hills and a pen.

“Mark it,” Derek grumbles at them even though that’s not exactly what Stiles wants to mark. He eyes Derek’s neck for a second and when the man catches his stare, he blushes.

Stiles smirks. “You’re just trying to piss me off today, aren’t you?” he asks, slightly amused that Derek keeps getting all bossy on him when he should know better than to challenge his alpha.

Despite his comment, he and Scott go to work on marking the map with the pen on whose territory is whose. Once they finish, Scott gives him a look, and Stiles knows exactly what it means from years of them being best friends.

Stiles nods at Derek. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.” He gives a look to his beta that they both know means _keep out of hearing distance_.

Scott gives the same message to his betas and they all file out of the forest quietly. They remain silent until the betas are out of hearing distance, and then once they are, it’s a free for all for hugging. The two best friends cling at each other, burying their faces in each other’s necks and just holding as tight as they can. Stiles is 100% sure that if he was still human, Scott would have broken his bones by now.

“I’m sorry,” Scott mumbles, muffled by Stiles’ neck. “I was a dick. I was thinking with my instincts only and and I don’t know how to apologize. I shouldn’t have attacked you. You’re my brother. You would never hurt me.”

Stiles just holds on even tighter. “No, man. I wouldn’t. And I’m sorry too for what I said about Kira. You know I love her and think she’s great. Hell, she helped you save my ass. And she can put up with you. How can you ask for better?”

“I’m sorry about what I said about Derek. I know you two haven’t been ready for each other and I shouldn’t have said anything about him. I know how you feel about him.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Stiles says, patting his best friend on the back once before pulling away. They both look away from each other, pretending that neither of them are wiping tears from their eyes. “We’re gonna have to have a bros weekend soon. Just you and me. No betas, no lovers, nada.”

Scott nods enthusiastically. “That’s _exactly_ what we need. Fuck, it’s been way too long since we’ve done that.”

“I can see it now, Scotty,” Stiles says, wrapping an arm around Scott’s shoulders, gesturing wildly. “Video games, junk food, and energy drinks as far as the eye can see. Just you and me.”

Scott laughs and ducks out his arm. “Until one of us starts complaining on the stench. Ten bucks say you’re the first to complain.”

Stiles gasps, offended. “First of all, how dare you. Second of all, you were always the first one to complain. Don’t dump that on me.”

There’s a slightly mischievous glint in his best friend’s eye. “That’s because your sense of smell wasn’t as good as it is now.”

He definitely winces at that. He can only imagine how bad they smell after a weekend of them holed up in Stiles’ room only eating junk food and drinking soda and energy drinks. “Ugh, we might need to keep the window open,” Stiles finally says after grotesquely imagining the smells.

Scott outright laughs at his friend’s pain, which _rude_. “Now you get it.”

Stiles sighs. Now he gets it. They walk back to the main road together, talking about which video games to play – the one where they can shoot lots of things obviously.

“Wait. So now that I’m a werewolf, does that mean I’ll be suddenly better at video games like you were?” Stiles asks.

Scott shrugs and opens his mouth to say something, but then they’re by the road where their cars are, and Derek’s scent hits Stiles hard. Not that he never noticed how good it smelled. It just smells _off_. He can feel his eyes shift to his alpha red as he stares at Derek, trying to determine what’s wrong. The man is worried. He can smell that much.

“What’s going on?” Stiles immediately questions, looking right at Derek. Something is wrong. His other betas look nervous about something. Erica and Boyd look downright terrified. Cora even looks slightly upset. “What the fuck happened? One of you need tell me right now.” He can feel his control slipping, but then Derek walks closer to him, cradling his alpha’s face in his hands.

“Stiles, calm down,” Derek says softly. “We’re okay.”

“Then why do Erica and Boyd look terrified and why do you smell worried?” Stiles asks, ripping his face from Derek’s hands. “Don’t fucking belittle me, okay? I know there’s something wrong, and I need you to tell me before I completely lose control.”

Derek glances over at Scott. “It’s pack business.”

“I don’t _care_ that Scott is here. _Tell me_.” Stiles surprises himself with his voice. He doesn’t recognize that as his voice, but then Derek, Erica, and Boyd are baring their necks and Derek is reaching into his pocket.

“This was on your Jeep,” he whispers, handing it to Stiles without making eye contact.

Stiles watches him curiously as he takes the paper out of his hand and read what’s written. The handwriting is delicate and even, but the words aren’t so nice.

 

_We hear there’s a new alpha in town. And here we thought the true alpha was going to be powerful. None of us took the time to notice his little sidekick and what powers he could possess. Expect a visit from us soon, Alpha Stilinski, for we have to see this new power for ourselves and to say hello to your mate_  
 __

Stiles recognizes the symbol. Of course he does. How could he forget it?

“Fuck,” he whispers, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. “I don’t have a mate?” He keeps staring at the word, completely confused.

“Yes, you do,” Derek answers.

“Have I met them?” Stiles asks since Derek seems to have all the answers.

“Yes.”

Then it clicks in Stiles’ head. “…is it you?”

“…yes.”

“Fuck,” Stiles whispers again.

Scott is looking over at him, concerned. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “As Derek said, it’s pack business, Scotty. I’ll see you later, okay? I have some things to discuss with my betas. I’ll text you about the bro weekend later.” He claps his best friend on the shoulder before gathering his pack into his jeep. Luckily, they understand him and they all get in quickly so Stiles can speed off before Scott has a chance to respond.

He sighs again, but no one talks. The ride back to his house is silent, the betas waiting for him to break the silence and he can’t yet.

The alpha pack. They’re coming back. Even though most of them are dead. Kali and Ennis are. So that means Deucalion found a new pack. Deucalion who is so much more of a threat now that he can see. Fuck. Stiles has to fight them? To what? Show his worth as an alpha? He doesn’t even know. He just knows to keep his dad and Scott’s pack out of this. This doesn’t involve them. If he could, he would get his betas out of the way, but he can’t.

Once he pulls into the driveway, he turns off his jeep and just stares at the garage door.

“Fuck,” he sighs, leaning down so his forehead is on the steering wheel. “Fuck. Derek, how am I supposed to do this? I can’t fight the alpha pack. Deucalion is stronger now, and who knows the psychopaths he picked up as pack? What the fuck am I going to do?”

The car is silent. None of them have answers for him, which is how it’s supposed to be, he supposes. He’s the alpha. Not them. This is his job, his situation to worry about.

He takes a deep breath and sits up. “Okay, so what do you guys want for dinner?” he asks, looking in the rearview mirror at them.

“I told my mom I would be home for dinner,” Erica says quietly.

He nods and then looks at Boyd. “How about you, Boyd?”

“My mom has been really worried about me, so I’ve been trying to stay home most nights,” he answers in the same quiet tone Erica used.

Stiles realizes what’s going on. “You guys don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not going to do anything. I’m sorry I lashed out earlier. That won’t happen again. I promise. You’re allowed to say no to me. It’s okay.”

They nod, so Stiles jumps out of the jeep, letting them out, so Cora can drive them home.

“It’s just something we need right now, Stiles,” Cora tells him when they explain she’s driving them home.

He nods. “I get it. Well, not really. I wasn’t there, but you guys do what you need to do. I understand that this must be a little bit of a triggering situation for you guys. Just know that I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re all safe. What happened last time, will not happen again. But please stay in contact with me. I don’t want to be an overprotective parent, but I’m going to be, so text me when you get home and if you leave the house. Please.”

They all agree to it and say their goodbyes. Stiles watches them go, leaning against his jeep.

“Most packs would stay with their alpha,” Derek says.

Stiles jumps. “Shit. I forgot you didn’t leave too.” He looks over at the other beta and reaches out a hand to him. Derek walks over to him and leans against the jeep, their shoulders brushing. Stiles leans his head on his shoulder. “What were you saying?”

Derek takes a deep breath. “When a pack feels threatened, they stay with their alpha. It’s how packs usually work.”

Stiles just shrugs. “We’re not a usual pack, are we? Plus, they need to be with people who understand their fear right now. I don’t understand that. I can’t help them right now.”

They’re silent for a minute before Stiles pushes himself off his jeep and walks towards the front door. “You can come inside if you want.”

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek asks.

His hand stops where it is on the door handle and he looks back at his beta. “I want werewolves to stop existing. My life was so much easier when I was bench warming on the lacrosse team and thinking I actually had a chance with Lydia.”

“You actually want that?” The man looks disappointed, sad even.

Stiles slumps against the door, rubbing at his face. “No, I don’t want any of that. I love being friends with Lydia and not being in love with her. And if Scott had never been bitten, I would’ve never met you.”

Derek looks up at that, eyes almost hopeful. “Yeah?”

Stiles smiles at him and waves him over. “Yeah, big guy. You’re okay, I guess. Come on, let’s order pizza and lounge on the couch. My dad works the night shift tonight.”

“Are you going to tell him about the alphas?”

He throws his backpack on the floor and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, seeing a text from Erica, telling him she’s home. He sends off a quick thank you before contemplating Derek’s question. “I don’t know,” Stiles answers honestly. “I want to protect him. Will ignorance protect him in this situation? Yes, but he needs to know, doesn’t he?”

Derek shrugs. “He’s your dad. You’re the alpha. It’s your decision.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “You’re so unhelpful. Plus, you usually give me your opinion. What’s up?”

Derek shakes his head and doesn’t say anything.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly. “Are you worried about the alpha pack?”

The beta gives him a dry look. “Not even a little bit. We all know my experience with them was nothing but friendly.”

Stiles laughs. “See, there’s my Derek. What’s wrong with you? You’re quieter than usual.”

“You didn’t exactly sound happy to have a mate…that’s me,” Derek finally gets out, looking firmly at the floor.

And that…well, Stiles doesn’t know how to react to that because honestly if anyone were to be his mate, he’d rather it be Derek. He remembers his distinct reaction of _fuck_ when it was certain that Derek is his mate because well. If he wanted to keep anyone safe, it would be Derek. It used to be his dad and Scott and that’s it. But he can’t keep Scott safe; Scott is an alpha and doesn’t need another one to take care of him. His dad will always be one of his top priorities, but now Derek, Erica, Boyd, and Cora are there too. He has to take care of his pack.

But it’s not just about taking care of the pack when it comes to Derek. Stiles knows that, has known it’s been more than that these last few days. There’s something more between them; there always has been. And Derek being his mate explains that, but Derek being his mate puts him in even more danger and the dude is a magnet for trouble and self-sacrificing. Stiles can’t be blamed for his reaction.

The thing is, he’s not sure how to pour these thoughts out into words. He just stares at Derek, hoping the man understands like he always does, but Derek just stares at the floor and doesn’t even try to understand.

“Derek,” Stiles says, hearing his own voice break. “It’s not like that. It’s never been like that. It’s…fuck. I’m not good with words. I just ramble until hopefully my point gets across, and usually it doesn’t. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel because I’ve just barely figured it out and now _boom_ you’re my mate too. Surefire thing. The fact that you’re my mate puts you in danger. You know how I am when my dad’s in danger? Well, if you’re in danger, I’m going to be like fifty times worse.”

That’s when Derek finally decides to look, searching Stiles’ face for something and Stiles tries as hard as he can to put whatever his beta is looking for on his face. He’s not sure what it is, but if Derek needs it, he’ll give it to him.

“I need you to be alive and safe,” Stiles whispers, staring at Derek and hoping now that he’s looking back he will understand. “The only reason I think it’s a bad thing that you’re my mate is because you’ve already been put in danger. That is the _only_ bad thing about it. Everything is fine and dandy. The fact that it’s you? Yes please. No one else understands me the way you do and it makes a hell of a lot of sense that it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Derek decides then that the time for talking is over and that they should definitely be kissing right now, and well, Stiles can’t argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story time! I was writing this and well near the end Derek was sad and grumpy and I didn't know /why/. I was legit Stiles and was like, "Why are you so quiet? Are you okay? Is the alpha pack?" And Derek was just like NO I <3 THE ALPHA PACK 5EVA and he wasn't exactly verbose on what was upsetting him so I had to reread through the chapter again and find out what made Derek upset wasn't actually written yet, but it was a thought I had in my head before writing the chapter. And this is really boring writing stuff, isn't it? This is how I write, guys. The characters do what they want. I follow shyly with a pencil and notebook.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's no longer hitting the fan....at least where Stiles and Derek's relationship is concerned. The dancing around each other has officially stopped.
> 
> In other news, they're a real pack now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *comes in four months late with Starbucks and a shitty chapter summary*
> 
> chapter summaries are stupid and why did I make that a thing with this fic.
> 
> oh and heyyyyyyy, guys. It's been a while.

The kissing? It’s wonderful. They should’ve always been doing this for like at least forever. Shut up. Stiles can’t think. Derek’s lips are on his and they’re soft and perfect and then there’s a tongue and then teeth nibbling, and Stiles is going to die from this; he knows it.

So he pulls back because he actually needs to breathe. “Wow,” he breathes out.

Derek nods, staring into Stiles’ eyes. “Wow,” he agrees.

“Let’s do that forever,” Stiles enthuses. “Like 10/10 would recommend except I wouldn’t recommend you to anyone because I’m possessive and I don’t like sharing.”

Derek smirks. “I can handle that.” His hands grab at Stiles’ hips, pulling the teenager flush against him.

“Is that something in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Stiles asks, waggling his eyebrows. He has been waiting to use this joke for his _entire_ life.

His joke isn’t apparently that appreciated by his mate, who just rolls his eyes like he can’t believe what he’s stuck with. But once Stiles slips his thigh between Derek’s legs, the man closes his eyes and moans, his hips involuntarily twitching against his alpha.

Stiles doesn’t even get to flash a smug smile before Derek is kissing him again. All he can do is clutch onto the beta’s hips, holding on for dear life as Derek tries to kill him via kiss. Derek pulls back, his lips traveling down Stiles’ neck, human teeth scraping softly.

“Is this where you finally go through on your threat to rip my throat out with your teeth?” Stiles asks, not admitting that his voice is breathless because it’s _not_. He’s a big, bad scary alpha. He doesn’t get breathless from kissing. “Because I think we’re just getting to the good part.”

There’s a huff of air against his neck that _doesn’t_ – okay it so does – make him shudder. If he looks down, he can see a twitch of a smile on Derek’s lips, so he hauls the man back up to his lips. He turns them around, pushing his mate against the front door.

“I’m all for switching the roles,” Stiles whispers against Derek’s lips, placing just a tiny amount of pressure between Derek’s legs with his thigh, which he gets awarded with a moan from his mate’s lips. The beta’s head falls back against the door, showing a very lovely view of his neck that Stiles can’t help but lean forward and lick from his clavicle to his chin. Then he nuzzles there, loving that he smells a hint of himself on his mate’s skin.

“Is that an innuendo to something else?” Derek asks, slightly breathless and _whoa_. Stiles took his breath away. Wow.

Stiles pulls back, grinning. “Of course it was. When is it not with me?”

Derek smiles softly and nods. “Well, I’m also ‘all for switching the roles’ as you like to put it.”

“Awesome,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against Derek’s and lets his eyes fall close. They’re silent for a few moments, letting the peace and quiet surround them because it doesn’t happen super often.

“I was promised pizza,” Derek reminds him.

Stiles huffs out a laugh, curling his fingers in Derek’s shirt before taking a step back to grab his phone from his backpack. “That you were, my fine sir. That you were.” Stiles orders two pizzas, one for him and another for Derek because he knows how he eats and how werewolves eat. He wonders if he should order more pizza since as a human, Stiles could eat an entire pizza. Whether or not he got sick afterwards doesn’t matter, okay? So instead of ordering more pizza, he also gets two orders of breadsticks and two liters of soda.

“Party night?” the guy on the phone asks.

“Uh, something like that,” Stiles answers before giving the man his address and hanging up afterwards.

Derek is already sitting on the floor in front of the TV, looking through the Stilinski movie collection, which is quite impressive if you ask Stiles. He’s a movie fanatic even if he has to take multiple breaks to do something else or text people in the middle. He can tell how good a movie is by how many texts he doesn’t send or breaks he doesn’t take. Good movies will suck him in, make him forget that there’s a world outside of the one being played on his TV. That’s why he is such a huge fan of Star Wars because even as a kid when his ADHD was much worse, he could sit through an entire movie without getting up to do something else.

“Whatcha in the mood for, babe?” Stiles asks, beaming at Derek when the beta glares at him. “You kissed me. You knew what you were getting into, babycakes.”

Derek sighs dramatically before returning his attention to the movies. “Not sure. But I distinctly remembering you going into an hour rant about how uncivilized I was because I had never seen any of the X-Men movies.”

Stiles’ smile fades into something softer, fonder from that statement. Not only does Derek remember what that rant was about – people tend to lose focus after two minutes of him talking, but Derek has always listened – he was also listening to Stiles’ advice.

“Yeah, I can never watch those movies too many times,” Stiles tells him, sitting on the couch, putting his feet on the coffee table and totally checking Derek’s ass out when he bends over to put the DVD in the player. Stiles uses the remotes to set everything up while Derek walks back to the couch. He sits on the end furthest from Stiles, probably as revenge for the nicknames.

Stiles has to bite his lip to hide his smile. He’s just so incredibly happy with life right now. He has a pack, he’s no longer weak, he has the best best friend ever, and he has Derek. As his own. All his own.

“Ugh, all I can smell is how happy you are,” Derek tries to say in a disgusted tone, but his lips are twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

Stiles looks over at him, not hiding his smile anymore. He scoots closer and closer until he is plastered against his mate’s side, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as Derek wraps an arm around the alpha. Who knew Derek’s muscular body could be so soft and cuddly? Stiles knew. Stiles was the only one allowed to cuddle with him, and at first he wondered why. Now, Stiles knows, and now, he doesn’t want Derek to let anyone else cuddle him.

“Is it a me thing or a wolf thing to be possessive?” Stiles asks.

“Is it a you thing to be talking during movies?” Derek counters. “I haven’t actually seen these movies yet.”

“Just answer my question,” Stiles tells him. “And we can talk until the pizza gets here so it doesn’t interrupt the experience. I’m popping your X-Men cherry.” Stiles brings his hands up to his chest, clutching his chest and looking up at his mate. “I’m so honored that you waited all this time and you chose to share it with me.”

Derek gives him a dry look before pushing him off the couch. “You’re an idiot.”

He flails around, trying to right himself again. “I am your alpha,” Stiles reminds from his new seat on the floor. “I don’t know why you can’t just show me a little respect. Like, really. Is it that hard?”

Derek’s eyes narrows, head tilted like he’s genuinely thinking about Stiles’ question. “It is actually. Do you know how hard it is to respect someone who doesn’t know how to close their mouth even when they’re sleeping?”

Stiles’ jaw drops then he immediately closes it because that just proves Derek’s point and he can’t have that. He huffs, glaring at his beta and hoping that will make him submit, but he’s not really putting his alpha power behind it, so it doesn’t work. “Just for that, I’m not talking for the next hour.” He mimes zipping his lips close, locking it, and throwing away the key.

Derek smirks down at him. “Texting counts as talking,” he tells him.

Stiles glares at him and he feels like a good 98% of their relationship is glaring. It’s beautiful really. So instead of talking, Stiles fiddles on his phone, playing around with the stupid game apps he has. He’s really bored because he can’t talk, but he’s determined to make it work.

Derek starts nudging Stiles’ back with his toes, pushing harder when Stiles is trying to play his game and messes him up. The alpha flashes a glare with red eyes up at Derek, who just gives him a smug smile in return. Stiles huffs, set on ignoring his stupid beta. He wonders for a moment why the world would make him spend the rest of his life with this asshole.

Since the nudging isn’t working like Derek wanted it to, his next tactic is running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Stiles has been debating on shaving his head again, but the feel of Derek’s fingers through his hair ends that debate almost immediately. He leans his head back into the touch as Derek starts softly scratching his scalp. Stiles has to swallow down a moan because that means Derek wins, but he does let his eyes close as his entire body relaxes into the touch because it’s just so amazing. Derek tugs at the hair softly before massaging his fingers, and it’s the best thing ever. Stiles wants to make him do it forever.

He definitely loses track of time, all of his focus on his mate’s fingers, and that sounds way dirtier than what the situation is. Maybe Stiles should want the situation to be dirtier, but he’s perfectly happy with the way it is right now. He wonders if Derek is going to complain about how happy he smells, but he can smell the same emotion wafting from Derek.

They’re brought out of their moment when Stiles hears a car coming towards his house. He tenses, and Derek’s fingers pause in confusion before taking his hand back.

“Pizza,” Derek says, and Stiles nods, pulling his wallet out of his pocket to hand to his mate and points at the door, giving him an expectant look. “Why can’t you pay him yourself?”

Stiles points to his mouth and shrugs. He eyes the door again as they listen to the pizza man walk up his driveway, to his door, and then knock. Stiles gives Derek another expectant look, who glares back but walks towards the door anyway. Stiles tries to hide his triumphant smile. It doesn’t work.

The transaction is simple. Derek takes it upon himself to pay for half of it. “Stiles,” he growls out. “Your mouth might not work, but your arms still do.”

He sighs dramatically and gets off the floor, taking the pizza and breadsticks from the pizza man, giving him a small smile.

“Stilinski?” the delivery guy asks.

Stiles nods, eyes narrowing slightly until he recognizes the dude. It’s Greenberg! Stiles didn’t know he was a pizza delivery guy. Stiles doesn’t really know a lot about Greenberg except that Coach hates the guy.

“You’re usually a lot more talkative,” Greenberg comments as he takes the cash from Derek.

Stiles gives his beta a pointed look, and Derek looks exasperated. “I told him he talks too much, so now he’s determined not to talk for an entire hour.”

Greenberg laughs. “You his boyfriend?”

Stiles nods enthusiastically with a huge smile, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist and nuzzling into his shoulder, making kissy faces at the man.

Another laugh from Greenberg along with an exasperated yet fond smile from Derek. “Well, good luck with not talking, Stiles,” Greenberg says, waving a hand as he walks back to his car.

“Who was that?” Derek asks as he closes the door. They place the food and drinks on the coffee table.

Stiles lifts an eyebrow, smirking but not saying a word. He goes to the kitchen, grabbing two cups and putting ice in them.

“No, I’m not jealous of him,” Derek mumbles, and Stiles is weirded out that he can hear it from the kitchen, but he is way too amused with the way Derek’s heart skips a beat like he’s lying and that the man knew exactly what Stiles’ smile meant.

When he gets back into the living room, Derek is glaring down at the pizza like it ran over his puppy that he doesn’t have. Stiles places the cups with the food and wraps his arms around his mate from behind, leaning into him. He nuzzles his neck, softly scrapes his teeth against his skin.

Derek leans back against Stiles’ chest, sighing contentedly, and Stiles smiles into his skin.

“Fuck I made it over half an hour,” Stiles finally says, voice muffled by Derek’s skin. “And I just wanted to tell you I’m really happy right now. Also I’m really impressed by how well you can read me.”

“You do the same with me,” Derek tells him, running his fingers over Stiles’ forearm.

Stiles just hums, closing his eyes and just enjoying the warmth from his boyfriend. Then his stomach growls and ruins everything. He sighs as he pulls away from Derek and goes to sit on the floor again to dig in.

The pizza is halfway to his mouth before he freezes and drops it. He can hear someone walking to the door, but they just stand there. They don’t say anything or knock. Just stand. Stiles jumps up and runs to the door, the panic rising as he opens the door to see no one. The person is gone already. Stiles is wolfed out; he can feel it, but he’s too busy searching the empty street and yards for the mystery person.

There’s a hand on his back and words being said, but he can’t hear them. He strains his ears to listen to all the sounds in his neighborhood. There’s at least ten heartbeats, but he can’t distinguish any of them and none of them seem suspicious.

Giving up, he starts to close the door before he sees a note on it. He picks up the piece of paper that just says

 _Does your dad work every Friday night? Hmm interesting. You have 5 days, Alpha Stilinski. 5 days._  
  
                                                                                         

“Five days until what?” Stiles mutters under his breath. He crumbles it, reaching for his phone to call his dad.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Derek asks, but Stiles just shakes his head as he dials his dad’s number.

“Stiles?” the sheriff answers.

Stiles slumps in relief against the now closed door. “You’re okay, right? Anything weird happen at work?”

“You know you’d be the first person I’d call if there was anything weird,” his dad tells him, soothingly. He doesn’t know why he’s comforting Stiles, but he does it anyway. Stiles has the best dad really. “Are you okay, son? Is Derek okay?”

Stiles smiles slightly at that. “We’re both okay. Um, something is happening, but I don’t know what. Remember the alpha pack?”

“The one that brought, uh, the darach?” The last word is whispered so no one will overhear him.

“Yes,” Stiles answers.

“The ones that are mostly dead except the leader?”

“Yep,” Stiles answers. “He must’ve gotten a new pack. He gave me a countdown. Five days. Five days until what I don’t know.”

The sheriff is silent for a moment and then says, “Well, keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir,” Stiles says, hanging up. He looks down at the food and then shrugs everything off as he drops to the floor in front of the coffee table so he can start digging into the food.

“Are we going to talk about that?” Derek asks.

Stiles looks up at him and then sighs, handing him the note. “There’s nothing we can do about it, so I’m just gonna keep eating.”

It’s quiet as Derek reads the note, throws it on the ground, sits down next to Stiles and starts eating. Well, there goes their happy, relaxing night, but it’s good. Stiles needed to sober up, remember what’s important. His pack is at stake here. His betas are in danger, and he needs to protect them before basking in his happiness.

“Stiles,” Derek gently says, his arm wrapping around Stiles’ waist as he slides closer to his side. “Talk to me. Don’t just ignore the problem until it goes away.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Stiles argues, shoving pizza in his mouth so he doesn’t have to talk. Obviously, Derek just waits him out like he _knows_ Stiles or something. Ugh. Worst mate ever. “Let’s just watch the movies, okay?”

“There’s something bothering you,” Derek unhelpfully points out.

Stiles turns to look at him with an incredulous look. “Really? Now why would there be something bothering me? Is it the alpha pack sending me threatening notes? No, that can’t be it. It’s definitely not them threatening my pack, all of whom have already been traumatized by Deucalion. That doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Oh! I know! It’s that my mate is in danger. No, wait. Why would I care about that? I’m fine, Derek. Really. Nothing bothering me over here.”

Derek gives him a dry look. “You’re not as fragile as you think are you, and sarcasm isn’t your best defense anymore.”

He wants to argue that, but the man’s right. Stiles sighs and sags against Derek’s side, his forehead resting on his beta’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m an asshole. It’s well established at this point in time. I just really wanted one night where we didn’t have to worry about all of this shit and that we could just be happy, you know?”

Derek’s arm gives him a squeeze. “Yeah, I do know. I’m very familiar with what you’re going through right now. We’ll fight back against the alpha pack again, and we’ll win because that’s what we do. After that, things will probably get better.”

“Probably,” Stiles snorts.

“No promises, but I think we deserve happiness and calmness around here.”

“Here, here!” Stiles cheers half-heartedly.

*

Derek’s look is blank after Stiles finishes his long explanation. He just looks very unimpressed.

“This is probably why you were a crappy alpha,” Stiles sighs.

“When I was alpha, we were in the middle of fighting a _war_. We didn’t have time to sit around in a puppy pile and watch movies.”

Really, Derek’s use of sarcasm is always impressive to Stiles after thinking he had no personality or humor for the longest time. He has to suppress a smile because his mate is really the best okay. The _best_.

“You said a normal pack would be together in a vulnerable time like this. So let’s be together…that sounded better in my head because you and I are already together. Figuratively and literally, sooo.”

Derek’s only response is an eye roll and a snort. At the same time, which would be super unattractive on literally anyone else. _Anyone else_. Stiles isn’t actually sure how he found that attractive on Derek.

So Stiles texts Boyd and Erica, unsure whether to text Cora or not. He’s not entirely sure if she’s part of the pack or not. He invites her anyway because he’s not going to turn her away if she wants to be part of the pack.

An hour later, there’s a pack of werewolves sitting in the Stilinski living room with couch cushions spread on the floor.

“No, we’re not watching Star Wars, Stiles,” Erica groans from her spot on Boyd’s chest.

“But I’m the alpha!” Stiles argues, hands waving around.

“ _No one_ cares,” Cora deadpans from she’s lounged in the armchair.

“Why are you even here, Cora?” he asks. “It’s _pack_ night. Not grumpy-Hales-raining-on-my-parade-like-every-other-night night.” He pauses and sees Derek’s unimpressed look _again_ that day. “Don’t give me that look, Der.”

“Are we gonna watch a movie or what?” Boyd asks, sounding done with everyone in the room. Stiles isn’t exactly surprised by that.

“Great question, Boyd!” he says and puts in Star Wars despite the unanimous groan across the room.

Glaring at all of them, Stiles stomps to his place on the cushions in between Erica and Derek and curls into his mate, his hand on Erica’s back and rubbing it absent-mindedly.

All in all, Stiles thinks it’s a successful pack night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait, but look! An update. *fist pumps the air* go me!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Countdown is over and Deucalion is leaving love notes again. It never gets old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I'M SORRY OKAY. I'M THE WORST AT UPDATING and this isn't even that long of a chapter. I'M. SORRY.

It’s exactly five days from the first note when Erica and Boyd show up at Stiles’ doorstep, panting and smelling heavily of panic and fear.

“There are other werewolves,” Erica gasps out as she collapses on the couch.

Boyd follows suit with a grunt. “Alphas,” he adds in. “They were alphas.”

“Fuck,” is obviously Stiles’ first response as he runs a hand through his hair then rubs aggressively at his forehead, which is what he does when he’s stressed and worried.

“You two are okay, right?” he ascertains because that’s the priority right now. They both nod.

“They didn’t say anything to us, just made their presence known,” Erica says quietly.

The rubbing gets harder as he stresses out more. He doesn’t know what to do with the invasion of his territory. Wait. Was it his territory?

“Where did you see them?” Stiles quickly asks, pacing in front of his betas.

“I was grabbing some groceries for my mom,” Boyd answers with a frown on his eyebrows.

Stiles sighs. Not his territory. So now it’s a Scott problem too. _Fuck_. The alphas probably don’t know what’s Scott’s territory and what’s Stiles’. _Fuck_.

Really, that’s the only word he knows when it comes to the alphas.

“If you guys feel safer at home, go there. I need to talk to Derek, preferably alone.” He hates giving direct orders, but he might in this case to keep his betas safe. “I need you two to stick together and Cora too if you can. Please, guys. I need you guys to be safe.”

Erica and Boyd nod seriously. “My mom loves you,” Boyd says like he’s trying to convince Erica, looking at her, who smiles weakly.

“God knows why when she keeps catching us making out like she has a sixth sense for it,” Erica jokes, but her voice sounds off. It’s not as strong and sassy as usual; it’s much softer, and Stiles doesn’t want them out of his sight, but his conversation with Derek really can’t be overheard.

So Stiles just forces himself in between the couple. Erica immediately curls into him, laying her head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. He puts his hand on the back of her head, leaning his cheek on the top of hers. His other arm wraps around Boyd’s shoulders, and Stiles swears he can even feel the other man lean into him slightly.

For a few minutes, they sit in silence, enjoying the comfort and security of the cuddling, and it’s nice. Stiles never knew he could enjoy touching people so much that he needs it to calm himself. He lets his fingers brush across Boyd’s neck to make his scent linger there just so the alphas know exactly who these betas belong to.

Erica nuzzles her face into Stiles’ neck before sitting up and pulling her hair up. “We need to get going before the groceries go bad in the car. Plus, I need to stop at my house to pick up stuff if I’m going to be spending the night at Boyd’s.”

Stiles puts his hand on her cheek for a moment and nods, pulling his arm away from Boyd so the beta can leave. He watches them leave and then pulls his phone out to text Derek to come over.

While waiting for Derek, he decides to shower to relax the tension in his shoulders. By the time he’s done, Derek is sitting at his desk, legs splayed across the floor. Stiles has the urge to just the man’s lap, but the desk chair wouldn’t hold them both so he just gets dressed instead and lounges across his bed, looking at Derek while he thinks.

“So how well do you think we can hold a serious conversation while cuddling?” Stiles asks. “Because I really want to be touching you right now, but this conversation is super important.”

Derek doesn’t say anything in response; he just stands up and sits next to Stiles on the bed, so Stiles lays his head on the beta’s chest, an arm and a leg wrapping around his mate, his fingers slipping underneath Derek’s shirt because they’re cold. Derek’s abs twitch at the sudden coldness, but he doesn’t say anything.

So Stiles fills the silence, telling him about Erica and Boyd’s encounter. Derek tenses at the first mention of alphas but relaxes slightly at the reassurance that Erica and Boyd are safe.

“For now,” Stiles adds sadly.

Derek nods once then sighs. “You have to tell Scott now. Better sooner than later.”

“Okay, I see where you’re coming from and I respect your opinion and I probably agree with it, but is everyone missing the fact that _I’m_ the alpha?” Stiles asks, partially joking, partially not because hearing the constant demands from his betas is slowly warring on his control. They’re usually joking, but his wolf still doesn’t like it.

Stiles expects Derek to tease him more about it, but he just wraps his arm around Stiles tighter and bares his neck for Stiles to nuzzle into it. “No one is forgetting. Your pack members are all incredibly independent people,” Derek tells him. “It happens with a pack full of turned wolves.”

“You and Cora aren’t bitten,” Stiles mumbles against his skin.

“You should’ve met my mother. It was impossible not to pick up some of her independence.” Derek sighs softly and Stiles curls in closer to give him more comfort because talking about his family is hard for Derek to do even though Stiles loves hearing about them. “Cora and I still respect the alpha more than the other betas and listen to you before anyone else, but we still are our own people. That and you’re not a totalitarian alpha.”

Stiles shrugs. “True,” he says because it’s true, but he’s happy Derek said something and explained the pack dynamics more to him. He probably needs to sit down with the man and discuss it more in depth soon, but they have bigger problems right now to deal with.

“So what do we do about the alphas?” Stiles asks, fingers playing with the hem of Derek’s shirt. “Do we attack them?”

“We’re not strong enough. Even with the help of Scott’s pack.”

Stiles sighs because it’s true, and he hates that. If it comes down to a fight and Stiles has Scott’s pack, the sheriff’s department, and the hunters on his side, they _might_ have a chance of winning, but it’s still a small chance especially since Stiles can’t trust the hunters to stay on their side and not turn around and attack him.

“So we stay on the defensive side,” Stiles says, his voice strong with authority. “At least until we know how many there are. We know of three right now, but did Deucalion bring more into the pack? He couldn’t have sent his whole pack as a scare tactic to Erica and Boyd. He’s smarter than that, isn’t he?”

“The scare tactic is working, though,” Derek points out. “So maybe he is that smart.”

They lie in silence for a while, long enough for Stiles to start dozing off only to be woken up minutes later to a shout.

“Sterek is canon!” Isaac is shouting from the doorway.

Stiles lifts his head from Derek’s chest to glare at the intruder. “What the fuck do you want?” He almost wants to flash his eyes, but it’s only Isaac; he doesn’t deserve an alpha glare.

“Um, to talk to Derek,” he mumbles, looking down and playing with the hem of his shirt. “And to let you know that Scott wants to talk to you. He said it was important and about alpha business.”

Stiles groans and sits up. “Alright. I’ll leave you two. Be nice. No fighting and if there’s any scent of Derek’s blood, I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

Isaac salutes him while Derek just rolls his eyes as he sits up. “Same goes for you and Scott,” his mate calls out after him.

Stiles doesn’t stop and think about how only a few weeks ago that sentence would have made zero sense. His best friend in the entire world is now someone he has a chance of fighting with. Fighting to the point of drawing _blood_. His life doesn’t make sense anymore and really hasn’t for the last year. But no. Stiles isn’t going to stop and think about this. He doesn’t have time. He has to peacefully discuss the alpha pack with the other alpha in his territory who may or may not still be his best friend. Who fucking knows.

He barely remembers driving to Scott’s house because he was too lost in his thoughts about everything. There still isn’t an easy solution to their problem. Maybe Scott will have one. Stiles snorts as he jumps out of his Jeep. Scott having a good plan? Yeah, right.

*

“We go to Argent,” is Scott’s excellent plan.

Stiles resists the urge to flash his eyes. “Can we trust him? He hasn’t exactly given us much reason to.”

Scott shrugs and slouches onto his couch. Stiles remains standing, the smell of Scott’s territory almost suffocating. “What other choice do we have, Stiles? Our packs together really aren’t that big.”

“We’ve fought them off before!” Stiles argues.

“But we don’t know what we’re up against now.” And well he’s right in that.

“Do we ever?” Stiles asks on a frustrated sigh.

He takes their packs into count. Scott has Allison, Isaac, Kira, and sometimes he has Jackson depending on the day. Lydia will probably help too and help convince Jackson to. Stiles has his pack including Cora. He would worry about everything less if he knew how many alphas there were in the pack. They know of at least three, Deaucalion and the two from the grocery store.

“How many do you think he has?” Scott asks, apparently on the same wavelength Stiles is.

Stiles shrugs. “Who knows? Last time he had four and practically kicked our asses.”

“We also didn’t have you as a werewolf and were missing Erica and Boyd. Plus there was the darach that we were dealing with and our parents being kidnapped. We should be able to handle this…right?” He looks at Stiles, hoping for him to agree with him, hoping that they can do this.

Stiles sighs. “We should be able to if this is our one focus and we can get them all in one place at the same time. Maybe have Allison talk to her dad about having a couple hunters as backup. But I will only allow hunters that follow Allison’s code on my territory. And they will _only_ be backup.”

Scott nods, agreeing with him. “We need to talk to him anyway about treaties and territories. So maybe we should go together and get it all out of the way?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says absent-mindedly thinking through everything. “We should definitely put that off for tomorrow, though. It’s been one hell of a day already.”

“Definitely.”

Stiles looks up at him with a small smile. “Hey we didn’t try to bite each other’s heads off. A+ work.” He holds his hand up for a high five, waiting until Scott slaps it with a laugh like they’re friends or something.

“See ya, buddy,” Scott calls out to him as Stiles heads for the door. “See ya.”

The trip home from Scott’s is similar to the first, but there’s less dread and worry more planning on how they’re going to take down the alphas, what the meeting with Argent will be like. Seriously, Stiles’ mind never shuts up.

When he pulls up to his house, Derek’s car is still there, but the cruiser is missing. As he walks up to the door, he checks his phone to see a text from his dad.

**_Working late. Animal attacks are happening again. You’re on this right?_ **

Stiles texts back the affirmative, knocking down his annoyance that Deucalion is killing people again. He’s so preoccupied by the text that he almost doesn’t notice the paper on the door. Almost. He practically rips it off, already knowing who it’s from.

**_Your betas are well trained. Bravo, Alpha Stilinski. Your mother would be proud._ **

**_ _ **

 

His mother? Wait what? That seems like an oddly specific thing for Deucalion to leave him. It’s not like the man doesn’t know it’s just Stiles and his dad. He knows his dad’s work schedule well enough to leave notes when he’s not there. His stalking methods are up to snuff so why bring in his mother?

He’s frozen at the door step when Derek pulls open the door.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice is concerned, but Stiles can’t comprehend it yet. He hasn’t figured out the mystery. From his memories of his mom, she was pretty human. Unless…

“Unless she was hiding it,” Stiles mumbles under his breath.

“Who’s hiding what?” Derek asks. “Stiles, what’s going on?”

“I need to go see Deaton,” he says, turning around to his car.

“Stiles!” Derek calls out, following behind him. “Why are you going to see Deaton? Talk to me, Stiles.”

Stiles stops with his hand on the door handle of his jeep, looking at it for a moment, remembering his mom driving around in it. The windows were almost always down and her hair would be blowing in the wind as she sang loudly along with the radio. She would always get Stiles to join in with her and make up funny lyrics to the songs. Then she died and the jeep sat in their garage for eight years until Stiles turned sixteen and his dad tearfully gave it to him. Stiles sat and cried in it for over an hour until he could actually muster up the courage to drive it.

And thinking about her, was it all a lie? Was she hiding something the whole time? And did Stiles’ dad even know?

Finally he looks up at Derek’s worried face staring into his, waiting for an explanation. “I think my mom was a werewolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand I'm great because I'm gonna go ahead and leave it on a cliffhanger. SEE YOU IN FIVE MONTHS (I'm really hoping I actually get a chapter out within a month this time. Hopefully sooner. I make no promises)
> 
> Up next, a hopefully helpful trip to Deaton's and a meeting with Argent. What can go wrong??


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed and plans made. Stiles learns to channel his inner Scott and trust everyone.

Deaton doesn’t look surprised to see Stiles or to hear his question. His answer is even something it never is: simple and clear. “She was.”

“And no one ever thought to tell me this?” Stiles asks. “Like I’ve known about werewolves for over a year now and no one bothered to be like, ‘hey, Stiles. Your mom was a werewolf btw. Little fun fact for you.’ That would’ve been really helpful a week ago when I became a werewolf.”

Deaton levels him with a indecipherable look because it’s Deaton. “You didn’t ask, and there are a lot of things in my knowledge that you are not privy to.”

Stiles wants to growl at him, smash something, but he doesn’t. It doesn’t get him very far with Deaton other than pissing the man off. “So my mom was a werewolf? Did she have a pack? Was she part of the Hale pack?”

“She wasn’t part of our pack,” Derek answers. “Otherwise, I would’ve known. But I did know of another alpha living here when I was a kid. She didn’t have a pack and kept to herself. My mom always spoke kindly of her but never by name. Then she stopped talking about her altogether.”

“Wait she was an alpha too?” Stiles asks, whirling back on Deaton.

The man nods once. “Last of her pack.”

“And my dad didn’t know the whole time? My dad is not that oblivious or she was a master at lying.”

“Well you didn’t inherit that from her obviously,” Derek mumbles.

Stiles glares at him, but it’s not like it’s false.

“Your mother was known for her excellent control,” Deaton continued, ignoring Derek and Stiles entirely. “From what I know, it was part of the reason Talia allowed for her to reside in Beacon Hills. To tell your father or you her secret, she would’ve breached her treaty with Talia.”

“But if she was a werewolf,” Stiles starts but stops for a moment, hesitating. A hand reaches over and squeezes his hand, giving him the courage to continue. “If she was a werewolf, then why did she die? Why couldn’t she heal?”

Deaton doesn’t look surprised by the question, but a flash of remorse does cross his face. “Werewolves can heal from any physical ailment, but as you know, an alpha is only as strong as their pack.”

“And my mom didn’t have a pack or at least a werewolf one,” Stiles mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“When she was diagnosed, Talia offered to allow Claudia to make a pack,” Deaton tells him. “Claudia refused, unsure of how the bite would affect others in her state.”

“What happened to the rest of her pack?” He’d really like to move along in the conversation away from his mom’s death. Living that once was enough.

Deaton’s face darkens for a moment, and he looks away from Stiles. “The alpha pack.”

Stiles’ eyes close, knowing flashing Deaton his red eyes would just cause more trouble. “Of fucking course,” he mutters, ripping his hand from Derek’s.

“Stiles,” Derek softly says, trying to comfort him.

“Thanks, Doc.” His voice is short, stilted as he makes his way out of the clinic, his beta following close behind, still trying to call out his name.

Derek grabs his shoulder, and Stiles rips it from his grip and spins around. “ _What_?” he growls, his eyes bleeding. “What do you want, Derek? To hold me and comfort me after learning that the same pack that fucked up half of my year last year is also the reason I had to watch my mom slowly fall apart and die before my eyes for fucking years? There’s no comforting that. Your touch can’t solve this.”

“And what will?” Derek demands, standing strong and as much as Stiles usually loves that, he’s done. He needs Derek gone, and he didn’t think he’d ever feel that way.

“Killing the alpha pack,” Stiles growls. “Their time here is done. They don’t need to keep going across the world killing innocent werewolves and packs.”

Derek nods once. “Then let’s start strategizing.”

Stiles just gives a quick shake of his head. “Go home, Derek. Just go home. I need to be alone tonight. We’ll figure it out in the morning. Just. Go.” He slumps against his jeep, feeling exhausted and just overwhelmingly done. As much as snuggling with Derek and hiding in his chest would be great, he also needs to be alone. He needs to think everything through and deal with everything.

“Okay,” Derek says softly, hand cupping Stiles’ cheek.

“But I’ll give you a ride back to my house so you can get your car. I’m not that mean.”

Derek gives him a doubtful look but climbs in the jeep anyway.

*

“No Derek?” his dad asks as he walks through the door well after midnight.

Stiles is sprawled on the couch watching mindless tv and gives his dad a nod as answer. “Needed some alone time.”

It takes a whole second for the sheriff to figure out something is wrong with his son. “What happened? Do I need to load my gun with wolfsbane bullets?”

“Probably,” Stiles answers. “But not for Derek. Derek is perfect as always. I just needed time to think.”

“The alpha pack?” his dad asks, sitting on the couch next to his son, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

Stiles automatically leans into his dad like he did when he was a kid and the familiar sensation immediately relaxes him. “Did Mom ever seem weird to you?” He hates bringing her up, but it’s the only thing he can think about right now. He can feel his dad tense the second she’s mentioned. “Like did anything seem off about her before…you know, before?”

It’s quiet save for the TV and his dad’s heartbeat, steady despite the hard topic. “What do you mean?” he asks softly, looking over at his son, confused. “Is there something in particular you’re curious about?”

Stiles just shrugs. “Mom’s family? She didn’t have any when you met her, right?”

The sheriff shakes his head. “They all died before I met her. She never liked to talk about it, and I never pushed her to.”

“Did you know anything about her before she met you?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He almost wants to do his own research on the family that he lost, the pack he could’ve had. Just the thought of being surrounded by family as he grew up is enough to make him miss them. All the loving teasing coming from everyone, multiple people always looking out for him, and maybe even kids his age to be his friend instead of just having Scott growing up. Maybe he would’ve known Derek before the fire. Maybe if the two packs had allied with each other, the fire wouldn’t have happened.

“Her past wasn’t what was important to me,” his dad answers softly. “It was who she was when I knew her. Was I curious? Of course. Whatever it was that happened really left an impression on her. At times, it almost seemed she was physically weakened by the loss and I didn’t get it. At least not until we lost her.” He looks down at his son again. “What is bringing this on? Did something happen?”

Stiles knows he shouldn’t be keeping anything from his dad. The lies have driven them apart before, and it was hard to repair that distance, to earn back that trust. But he doesn’t know how to word it, how to open his mouth and tell his dad. He leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling.

“Mom is where I got it,” he says quietly. “Where I got the alpha gene. She was a werewolf.”

Surprisingly, his dad takes it quite well. He frowns for a moment, thinking it over and then nods, accepting the information. “I really am oblivious to all this werewolf stuff, huh? And I’ve been surrounded by it for decades.”

Stiles laughs once. “Neither of us knew. She was really good at hiding it and needed to keep us safe. Guess the Stilinski Men are just oblivious to everything.”

“That we are, kiddo,” his dad agrees lightly. “Man, your mom a werewolf. Guess that kind of explains a few things. Werewolves, who would’ve guessed?”

And that’s the end of that. He feels a little better now that his dad knows. The information feels easier to process, and his head feels clearer. He takes out his phone and texts everyone he knows to meet at his house in the morning. Time to make a plan.

*

“There better be coffee,” Isaac calls out as he walks through the front door.

“Got it covered,” Lydia calls from her seat at the table. She brought cups and cups of coffee from Starbucks somehow knowing everyone’s orders. No one questions her anymore.

Scott is at one end of the table with Stiles at the other end. Scott’s head is resting on the table; he’s not much of a morning person. Kira is to his right, Allison his left then Lydia next to her and Derek next to Kira. The table isn’t that big, so everyone else circles around. Surprisingly, everyone showed up. Jackson, Isaac, Cora, Erica, and Boyd are all standing around, the last three closer to Stiles’ side of the table. He made sure to keep his betas from circling up behind him. It looks too threatening, and that’s not what this is about.

“Allison, is your dad almost here?” Stiles asks, spreading a map out across the table and pulling out his dad’s reports on the animal attacks. He stayed up half the night, trying to pin point the most likely place the alphas are staying based on the animal attacks and where the abandoned buildings are. Considering that there aren’t that many anymore, many of the warehouses being turned into lofts or being bought up by other businesses has narrowed down the possibilities.

Allison nods her head. “He wasn’t far behind me. I made sure he knew that no weapons were allowed in the house. He didn’t seem to mind too much, meaning it only took half an hour of convincing that claws would not be coming out during the meeting.”

Stiles snorts. He expected nothing less from Argent, but at least Allison seemed to convince him.

“Why do we all need to be here?” Jackson asks, his voice bored.

“Because this affects all of us,” Lydia snaps at him. “You can’t run away to London for this one. You agreed to stay which means you have to stay when it gets hard. We protect each other here, Jackson.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything more so Lydia’s speech must have made a difference on him.

“We may be two packs,” Stiles says, “but we protect each other. We’re all still friends and allies. And not to get all High School Musical on you, but we’re all in this together. These guys are an actual threat to _everyone_. Not just me and my pack.”

“And what’s a threat to you is a threat to me,” Scott quickly interjects fiercely, Kira and Allison nodding in agreement. Stiles smiles at him from across the table. Both being alphas may put a strain on their friendship, but they’re still loyal to each other no matter what.

The front door opens, and Derek stiffens next to him. Stiles doesn’t hesitate to reach over and grab his hand. His beta has been quiet all morning, thinking, but he hasn’t been tense, and Stiles knows exactly who walked through that door to make him tense.

“I brought bagels,” Argent calls out, an obvious peace offering.

“In the kitchen,” Allison replies. “Coffee’s in here.”

Stiles watches Argent closely as he places the bag of bagels on the counter with the spread. Lydia stands up to set out knives and napkins for everyone. There’s small chatter around his small kitchen while everyone grabs a bagel. Derek stays quiet, which isn’t exactly a surprise at this point, but Stiles is getting concerned.

He leans close and under his breath asks, “Are you okay?”

Derek nods. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

Stiles nods, understanding. “It is. We’re gonna figure this out. And then we can live happily ever after, right?”

The brooding werewolf almost smiles. _Almost_. Stiles still counts it as a success as everyone settles back down to start the meeting.

Stiles explains the two most likely places for the alphas to be staying. “I narrowed it down to two, but there’s no way for me without physically going to know which one it is.”

“I can stake it out,” Argent offers.

Stiles immediately shakes his head. “You reek of wolfsbane. They’re going to smell it. Allison can’t go because she smells like Scott’s pack.”

“Then I’ll go,” Lydia announces, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not affiliated to either pack. I might smell like werewolf, but in this town who doesn’t?”

Stiles wants to argue with her, wants to make her not do it. “What if they catch you?” he demands.

“Are you saying I’m weak?” she counters.

“I’m saying none of us can protect ourselves against a pack of alphas by ourselves. It’s not because you’re human or a woman. It’s because it’s just _you_.”

“You weren’t so concerned when it was Allison.” She leans back in her chair, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Because I knew Allison would get caught immediately,” Stiles points out. “I wouldn’t be okay with Scott being by himself.”

Lydia deflates slightly, finally seeing Stiles’ logic. “Then how do we tell which building they’re staying in?”

“What about Parrish?” Kira suggests. “We get help from the sheriff’s department.”

Everyone looks to her, waiting for her to elaborate. She flushes slightly before sitting up a little straighter and going on. “They wouldn’t do a stakeout necessarily, but they can patrol it every so often to check for activity. It could be Parrish and your dad.”

“Not my dad,” Stiles quickly interrupts. “They’ll know him. But Parrish shouldn’t go alone either.”

He just barely catches Lydia’s smirk at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Alright okay. If you can get him to agree and _make sure he knows the risks_ then you can partner up with Parrish to do patrols. You’ll know what to look for better than he will anyway.”

She looks smug, and Stiles can’t fault her. It’s hard to be the most human in the pack of werewolves and other supernatural creatures. He didn’t get it until now, but he’s more protective over her than anyone else. She can’t fight like they can, but that doesn’t mean she can’t take care of herself. And Stiles won’t forget that.

“What’s the course of action once we know where they’re staying?” Jackson asks.

“We attack,” Derek answers, voice quiet but hard. “They’re in our territory, and this is what they want. They want a fight, so we’ll give it to them.”

“And we’re going to kill them,” Stiles adds, voice just as hard. “They’re just going to come back or kill off more packs if we let them leave with their lives. I agree killing is bad, but it’s the _only_ way to stop them.”

Scott takes a deep breath but remains quiet because he can’t argue that there’s another way to do it. He can’t give the moral argument. He let them go last time, and they just came right back. Stiles gives him a moment until he nods subtly. At least they got the Scott seal of approval.

“Are we going to make any plan of attack?” Allison asks.

“Of course we are,” Argent cuts in. “You guys may think you have a handle on this, but don’t think no one has tried this before. It’s going to take more than a group of teenagers to do this.”

Lydia glares up at him, but Stiles can’t argue he has a point. That doesn’t mean he wants hunters swarming his territory.

“You can’t bring in too many,” Stiles immediately tells him. “The alphas will notice if suddenly there’s a horde of hunters in werewolf territory. It’s not normal. And they have to fully agree to Allison’s code and know they will be working alongside werewolves, not against us. We need to be able to trust them for the time being.”

Argent considers the terms and then nods. “Fair enough. I know a couple who will agree.”

“What about the sheriff’s department?” Scott asks. “We have some allies in there.”

Stiles looks at the table, clenching his fists, but once he feels a hand on the back of his neck, he relaxes. “I’d rather my dad not be in the fight. They need to be the absolute last resort, in case of an emergency.”

No one disagrees with him, which is good, but that means they need to brief his dad on everything and he needs to come up with a reason why his deputies would come charging into a warehouse and shoot people.

But looking around, he sees all the people, most of them he wouldn’t even thought of talking to a year ago, ready for battle. Faces solemn and bodies tensed as if preparing to be attacked at any moment. He isn’t even surprised to realize that he trusts everyone in this room to walk into a fight with him and have his back. And he thinks that maybe they all trust each other right back.

They can do this. They’re going to do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will hopefully finally be the confrontation with the alpha pack. planning on about two more chapters left of this story and hoping it won't take too long to finally finish it up.


	9. Chapter 9

“Only you and I can kill the alphas,” Scott says to him once his house is empty. They’re cleaning up the mess the wolves left together.

Stiles lifts his head, frowning. “Because we’re already alphas,” Stiles quickly catches on. “Which means only me or one of the humans can kill the alphas.”

Scott raises an eyebrow at that. “Where did I go?”

He huffs at his best friend as ties the garbage bag up. “Face it, Scott. You’re not gonna kill someone. Ever.”

“It’s for the good of my pack and my family,” Scott argues.

Stiles rolls his eyes and faces the other alpha again. “Can you, Scott? Can you really kill one of them? I can’t let them go free again. We need to end this here and now.”

Scott takes a deep breath, and Stiles can tell he’s thinking about it, but this is Stiles’ best friend. A guy he has known for years.

“I’m not going to think any less of you,” Stiles tells him softly. “I just need to trust that you won’t let anyone go even if you can’t kill them yourself.”

Scott nods once.

“Good. Now put in a new trash bag while take this out. Thanks.” And that’s the end of that.

*

“It feels so wrong.” Stiles winces.

Derek looks up from the book he was reading, raising an eyebrow. “The hunters are here?”

Stiles nods once. “I can feel them entering my territory. I feel so violated. And angry. A little bloodthirsty. Also a little regular thirsty.” He jumps out of his bed, stretching. He’s been in there way too long just waiting for any kind of news, and the hunters are it.

“Are there too many?” Derek asks, worry leaking into his voice, and his heart rate picking up.

Stiles shakes his head, walking to where Derek is sitting at his desk and kisses his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m okay. These hunters won’t hurt us. And if they do then I might just kill Argent.”

Derek looks a bit doubtful on that one, and he’s probably right. It would be really hard to kill Allison’s dad. He’d kick him out of Beacon Hills. Banish him, which makes Stiles sound like a king not an alpha werewolf. Whatever.

“Want anything while I’m downstairs?” Stiles asks, running a hand through Derek’s thick hair.

The beta leans into the touch, relaxing, which was Stiles’ intention. Derek turns his head and kisses Stiles’ wrist. “I’m okay, thanks.”

While he’s getting a glass of water, Stiles hears a car pulling up in his driveway. The tension builds in his body as he listens closely to whoever is getting out of the car and walking to the door. It’s two people; he can hear their heartbeats. One sounds familiar, so it must be someone from his pack. Or Scott’s pack.

Or neither since it’s Lydia and Parrish walking through his front door.

“You should really lock that,” Lydia chastises him. “There are dangerous things around here.”

Stiles shrugs, sipping his water. “If neither Derek or I hear them before they get to the door then there’s probably no fighting chance anyway.”

She frowns at him. “That’s a really poor way of thinking, Stilinski. I expected better from you.”

He rolls his eyes and nods his head at Parrish. “So I’m guessing you’re not here just to listen to Lydia criticize my life choices?”

“We found out which warehouse they’re staying in,” the deputy answers, trying to stay serious and not laugh at Lydia’s glare that’s directed at Stiles. The alpha is also ignoring it. Or trying to. He can literally _feel_ it.

But this is more important than Lydia, which isn’t something he ever expected to think in his whole life.

Without prompting, Lydia pulls the map out of her giant purse and walks into the dining room to spread it over the table. She puts a red X over one of the possible locations Stiles had circled and points at the other one.

“They didn’t catch us,” she tells him. “We drove around for a couple hours over the last few days and finally saw someone neither of us recognized walking into the warehouse with an arm full of groceries. There was never an activity at the other one.”

Stiles nods, scratching his chin. “Parrish, would it be possible for you to get blueprints of this building?”

“Already ahead of you,” Lydia interjects before Parrish can even think to answer, pulling out another rolled up piece of paper. When she spreads it out, Stiles can see detailed blueprints of the warehouse with notes in Lydia’s handwriting that point out good places to hide, place Molotov cocktails or other explosives. Where they should come in if they storm the place.

“I’m impressed, Lydia,” Stiles says, reading over all the notes. “Not surprised, but still impressed.”

She smirks at him and then places a manicured finger on the blueprints. “If they’re smart, they have someone posted at all of the possible entrances and exits or have placed traps at them, but I doubt they’re smart enough to find this one.”

Stiles inspects it closer, seeing what’s she trying to show him. A small room that has a window in it and based on the measurements, it’s more than big enough for any of them to climb through.

“Why do you think they haven’t guarded this one?” he asks.

She pulls out yet another paper.

“Is your purse a black hole?” Stiles asks.

“Yes,” Parrish answers.

But Lydia is focused on her mission as she spreads this one out. “These are the original blueprints of the warehouse. That room was added two years ago when someone bought the property and had wanted to turn it into an apartment complex. They stopped pretty quickly and never fully finished this room. It’s likely that they opened the door to this room, saw it unfinished, and haven’t given it a second glance since.”

It’s a logical enough thought. “So you’re saying that’s where we should sneak in?”

Lydia shrugs. “Maybe you and Scott go in first, check out how dangerous it will be. Maybe bring me along so I can set up some explosives in case we need them.”

“I don’t want you in there,” Stiles immediately protests.

She raises her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s not your decision. It’s mine. And I _will_ do what it takes to protect the people I care about, which means getting rid of these bastards before they hurt any more of us.”

Stiles can’t argue with her. Plus, she’d be the best at making and setting up explosives. “Take Allison with you,” he tells her. “She’ll know where to strategically place them, and you two can look out for each other.”

Lydia agrees willingly enough. “I’m still not sure how many of them there are.”

“We should be able to take them,” Stiles says, trying to convince himself. “We have plenty of people ready to fight. They can’t have that many in the pack. Deucalion hasn’t been away long enough to rebuild a large pack. I’m guessing four at the most.”

“But Deucalion is strong,” Lydia adds in, her eyebrows creasing in the middle.

Parrish puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be on standby. If none of you come to us within an hour to let us know it’s okay, then we’re coming in.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles agrees. “I still really don’t want my dad anywhere near this.”

“But you can’t keep him from this,” Parrish quickly says. “Not with you in danger, Stiles.”

He’s right. The Stilinskis are pretty protective of their own.

“Alright,” Stiles sighs. “How long do you need to get everything ready, Lydia?”

She takes a second to think about it. “A day. Allison has been getting her supplies together and we’ve all been training our asses off this week. We can’t wait much longer, Stiles. They’re not going to be patient.”

And Stiles can’t argue with her.

*

It’s all coming together and now that they know the location, they can begin to finalize everything. Derek has been with the betas all week at the preserve, teaching them how to fight while Stiles has been meeting up with all the new hunters, making sure they’re going to follow the code and that they can be trusted.

Allison, Kira, and Lydia teamed up to teach themselves since they don’t have the strength of the wolves. Sometimes, Stiles would stop by because even with all the self-defense his dad taught him, he needed a refresher. Also, Derek shirtless and sweaty? Can’t blame him for enjoying the good view.

 He’s sitting by a tree, watching everyone when he comes up with an idea. “Why don’t we combine the two groups?” he asks, loud enough for the humans and Kira to hear too.

Derek cocks his head, thinking about it and then nods. “It would be good for them to get used to fighting against werewolves.”

Allison takes Scott, Lydia takes Erica, and Kira takes Isaac. Boyd sits it out, observing instead and watching everyone’s tactics as they fight, yelling out encouragements to the humans. Stiles stands next to him, shouting werewolves’ weak points for Lydia and Kira.

Unsurprisingly, Allison pins Scott within two minutes. He doesn’t look too upset about it, though. His face is lit with pride. Derek barks at them to go at it again because he isn’t convinced Scott actually fought back. The second round between the two of them ends in a tie, neither of them willing to take the extra step to completely incapacitate the other.

Letting Lydia and Kira rest, Stiles steps in for them, fighting against Isaac and Erica. He uses his alpha strength to his advantage without hurting them. He can’t have them weak for the fight. Derek stands on the sides and helps them, pointing out Stiles’ use of his strength and how they can use it against him.

Eventually, Boyd jumps in to help when Erica and Isaac start showing how tired they are. With his help, Stiles actually struggles fighting them and lets them pin him down.

“Keep in mind, though,” he says, brushing the dirt off his jeans when he stands back up, “that the alphas aren’t going to be nice like me. They’re not going to hold back injuring you.”

His betas nod, all of them looking weary. He’s about to tell everyone to pack up when he hears a growl behind him.

Whirling around, Stiles sees Derek flashing his blue eyes and fangs at him. “I may not have the strength of an alpha anymore, but I remember how to fight like one,” he taunts Stiles.

“I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face,” Stiles tells him, rising up to the challenge and feeling his face shift in his beta form. He growls back at Derek and lunges at him.

As they fight, Stiles quickly learns that Derek is right. He knows where Stiles’ instincts are telling him to go and parries all of his attacks. While the alphas in the pack are newer and are going to follow their instincts, Stiles has been around werewolves and training sessions like this for a while. He knows that he needs to stop going with just his instincts and use his brain too. Keeping a close eye on how Derek attacks and what his body language is before an attack, Stiles quickly learns when to dodge and which side to feign before attacking.

It ends with Stiles pining Derek on the forest ground, and Derek doesn’t seem too upset about their position.

“You actually tired me out,” Stiles commends him.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I went easy on you.”

“Oh so did I.” Stiles leans down and gives him a quick kiss before pushing himself up and offering a hand to his mate. “I think we’re done for the day.”

Scott nods and looks around at everyone. “Rest up tonight, guys,” he tells everyone.

“Tomorrow is the day,” Stiles finishes for him, both of them knowing that their packs are as ready as they’ll ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THE FIGHT SCENE HASN'T HAPPENED YET. BUT IT'S IN THE NEXT CHAPTER AND THE FINAL ONE IT'S DONE GUYS YESSSSSSSS


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big fight that everyone has been preparing for has finally arrived and it's not nearly as exciting as this makes it sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's keep in mind that I'm horrible at writing action and fight scenes will always be super underwhelming when written by me. So like take your expectations for this and lower them drastically that way you're pleasantly surprised when it's almost decent!

Stiles and Scott are the first to enter the warehouse. They help Lydia and Allison in after them and the four of them walk through the building as quietly as possible. The alphas would use their powers to mask the sounds, but both of them agreed that they need to save their energy towards fighting. Lydia and Allison are quiet enough that they don’t need the help anyway.

Listening closely, Stiles makes out four different heartbeats. But none of them are Deucalion. _Fuck_.

Scott comes to this realization seconds after Stiles does, and he looks at him, worried. “What now?” he mouths.

Stiles shakes his head. They don’t have a choice. They’re going to end this today. And if it means killing off the pack and waiting for Deucalion to show his face, then that’s what they’re going to do.

Obviously, it’s not what Scott chooses to do. God damn his moral compass honestly.

The second they make contact with the first alpha, Scott pins him against the wall and asks him why he’s in the alpha pack.

“Because my pack was weak and deserved to die,” the man spits.

“Scotty, please tell me you’re not going to interrogate all of them,” Stiles hisses. They don’t have time for this. He can hear the other three making their way to them now that they’ve made themselves obvious.

Allison and Lydia have snuck pass and are on their way to plant the explosives and find Allison and vantage point to shoot her arrows.

Scott frowns at the alpha he has pinned, and his moment of hesitation allows for the man to break Scott’s hold and cuts his face with his claws. Scott cries out in pain but easily dodges the next attack and is ready to fight by the time Stiles attacks the alpha from behind, quickly slashing his throat.

“That was the grossest thing that has ever happened to me,” Scott tells him, wiping blood off his face from where it gushed out of the alpha’s throat. “That was…”

“Horrifying,” Stiles croaks, trying to ignore the fact that he just killed an actual person. An evil person who was going to kill his pack and his best friend, but still. A person. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Scott whispers, clapping Stiles on the shoulder.

The other three alphas round the corner at the same time, smelling the blood probably if their flared nostrils are anything to go by. They charge at Scott and Stiles while the rest of the packs file in from the other side of the warehouse. Stiles can hear them coming in and is surprised that it doesn’t phase the other alphas.

But Stiles can’t focus on that with three angry alphas growling and trying to kill him. He blocks as many attacks as he can and tries to land more blows. He feels teeth bite into his wrist, so he uses his other hand to claw at the face attached to his arm. The teeth unclamp, so he takes back his injured arm while sticking his claws into the neck of the alpha that bit him. When he pulls his claws out, the alpha falls to the floor, limp.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” he says aloud, hoping the rest of the pack hears him. “But he’s passed out for now and will still be a bit weak when he wakes up.”

“Why don’t you just kill him now?” Jackson growls from the other side of the warehouse.

“Little busy,” Stiles huffs as another alpha tackles him to the ground. Their footsteps are getting closer and sound like they’re moving faster now. Stiles struggles with the woman on top of him, who is snapping her jaws at him like she’s trying to bite his face off, which could definitely be exactly what she’s going for.

She gets a chunk of his cheek before he manages to roll them over and get the upper hand. Literally. He raises his hand and punches her as hard as he can. As he’s about to go in the for the kill, he hears a voice.

“Ah, Derek. Long time no see. How have you been?”

The rest of the pack is around, most of them fighting the other alpha while Scott lies unconscious on the floor, healing. Stiles looks around at all of them fighting but doesn’t see his mate.

He jumps up and starts running as fast as he can but trips when he feels his heart rip. Landing on his hands and knees, Stiles stops breathing. Something happened. Something bad. And it happened to Derek. He _can’t_ breathe. His chest hurts like there are claws in it and _oh_.

Pushing through the pain, Stiles stands back up and gets back to running as well as he can. He slides out of the hallway from the back room to the middle of the warehouse where Deucalion has Derek hoisted in the air.

“Deucalion!” Stiles shouts, making the alpha switch his attention away from his mate. He drops Derek like he’s nothing, and Stiles can’t help the pathetic noise that escapes his throat at seeing Derek lying on the floor, motionless.

“It’s me you want, isn’t it?” he asks, tearing his gaze from his mate. “So why toy with him?”

“It’s the best way to get your attention, of course,” Deucalion answers easily. “While having the both of you in my pack would be the ideal, Derek has already made his opinion of my pack well known. Who am I to push him?”

“And you think my opinion is any different?” Stiles scoffs. “After what you’ve done to my mate and members of _my_ pack. You think I want to join you?”

Deucalion walks towards Stiles at easy pace, staring him down with a small smile on his face. None of this should be threatening, but the man has a way of making his mere presence intimidating.

“I think that I’m not going to leave you much choice, I’m afraid,” Deucalion tells him, his voice soft.

“What’s stopping me from killing you right here, right now?” Stiles counters.

“Your mate.” Deucalion stops just a couple feet from Stiles. “And that you know you can’t fight me alone. You’re not strong enough for that, and we both are well aware of that. The rest of your pack is busy with two of mine, and Scott…” He pauses and tilts his head to listen in. “Scott is still indisposed.”

Stiles hates to admit it, but he’s right. There aren’t many options for him here except. He doesn’t dare move his head to look over at the spot he knows Lydia planted an explosive. Allison can’t be too far off either, but she’s masking herself really well that Stiles can’t find her without trying too hard. Any other time, he would try to, but he needs his focus here. On Deucalion. On Derek’s labored breathing.

 _At least he’s breathing_ Stiles thinks to himself.

“You would die the second you thought to fight me,” Deucalion continues. “There’s no chance for you. And if there’s no chance for you, there’s no chance for Derek.”

Stiles refuses to let Deucalion’s words have any affect on him. He’s going to fight back. There isn’t another choice. Joining the alpha pack? Wreaking havoc on other towns and packs just like Beacon Hills? There’s no way in hell he would do that.

“Fuck you, you self-righteous bastard,” Stiles snorts, ducking when Deucalion’s claws come flying at him. Unfortunately, the second hit lands on Stiles’ skull, making his head throb and a ringing noise to start up. His vision goes blurry for a moment and then clears so he can try to slash at Deucalion, barely missing.

He’s fine with keeping up their dance, letting Duke land a couple hits here and there as he tries to lead him to the spot. As he gets closer to it, arrows start landing on Deucalion, making him hiss in pain. There must be wolfsbane on them. Stiles can smell them. But it doesn’t deter Deucalion’s attacks on Stiles. He keeps going and going. And it’s getting harder to fight him off. More blows are landed on Stiles than he can manage to land on Deucalion, and he can feel himself tiring out. But he can’t lose this fight. He _won’t_ lose this fight.

That’s when the claws sink into his throat. That’s when Stiles knows he’s done for, that this is the end and _damnit_ he was so close to Lydia’s Molotov cocktail. So _fucking_ close. He can feel the air struggle and get caught in his throat, the blood bubbling up into his mouth. He chokes it out, feeling it leak down his chin, but that’s nothing compared to what he hears.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek is crying out. His voice is so _so_ broken. And Stiles wishes he could turn his head to look at his mate. He wishes he could open his mouth and reassure him he’s going to be okay without Stiles. That Derek can move on and live without him.

But Stiles can’t do any of that. His neck is locked where it is, and his eyes are stuck on one pair of red eyes. Red eyes that are exactly what Stiles ever imagined evil to look like. They’re taking too much glee in watching Stiles’ life slowly fade as if feeling his power slip out of his body into Deucalion’s is what he lives for.

Well…that is exactly what Deucalion lives for and what he does. He kills alphas to gain their strength.

“Not my son, you bastard!” someone yells and then gunshots are pounding through the air.

Deucalion pulls back his hand sharply, and Stiles falls to the ground unable to find the strength to keep himself up. The gunshots are ringing in his ears, and the smell of wolfsbane is overpowering.

“Get them out of here!” Argent barks, but Stiles doesn’t hear much of it. He can see Derek trying to crawl over to him, but he’s still weak and injured.

“Derek,” he tries to call out, but his voice is garbled and incoherent even to his own ears.

Deucalion falls next to him, and as much as Stiles wishes he could turn his head to look at the man, he can’t. He can’t move his neck, and he can’t keep his eyes open much longer.

It feels like someone picks him up, but he’s not sure because right after that everything is black.

*

“Stiles,” a voice whispers, soft and very, very alluring. Why? It sounds familiar. “Stiles, please wake up. Please. I need you, Stiles.”

That voice. It shouldn’t be speaking that softly or that nicely. It should be saying his name on a growl with a glare and grumpy eyebrows following.

“Derek?” Stiles croaks, his throat dry. “Fuck. I need water. Like yesterday.”

He cracks opens his eyes, but the light is too bright so he immediately shuts them. Something plastic presses against his lips so he parts them, and a straw is there so he starts sucking down as much water as he can possibly drink.

Once the water is gone he leans his head back, and the straw disappears. “Can you turn off the lights?” he asks, his voice sounding almost normal.

There’s a scrape of a chair and a click, so Stiles tries to open his eyes again, and it’s so much better this time. It must be dark outside because his window isn’t letting in any light. How did he even get in his bed?

“Der?” Stiles calls out, not being able to see him. He tries to turn his head, but a hand on his neck stops him.

Derek swims into his view, concern filling his face. “Your neck isn’t fully healed yet. He went pretty deep. So you’re not allowed to move it.”

“Then you have to stay right there,” Stiles commands him, flailing his hand around until it lands on Derek’s cheek. “I need to see you and see that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against Stiles. “I almost thought you weren’t going to be.”

Stiles snorts, wincing when it burns his throat. “Like you can get rid of me that easily.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you,” Derek tells him, his voice hard.

Silence falls between them as they both realize how close it came to losing each other. “Yeah, me neither. I love you, Derek.”

Derek nods against his head. “I know.”

“Hey!” Stiles yells, smacking his mate’s chest with his other hand. “No Han Solo-ing me. This is a moment we’re having here.”

Derek grabs his hand and holds it against his chest. “I love you. Don’t you dare do anything that stupid ever again, do you understand?”

 “I’m the alpha,” Stiles whispers. “I do the commanding.”

“Do you understand?” Derek growls.

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Good.” Derek presses his lips to Stiles before the alpha can get out any more words. Which is fine. Words are stupid. He’s done with words. He’s all about the body language right now. Let his body and Derek’s body speak for them if you know what he means.

But before they get any farther, Derek pulls away but stays close. “Rest,” he tells Stiles. “I’ll be right here the whole time. We both have a lot of healing to do before we can do anything else.”

“Fine,” Stiles groans. “Get in bed with me if you must. God forbid you cuddle me while you’re at it and stay close enough to let me feel your heartbeat as I sleep. Because that would be downright disgusting.”

“Couldn’t think of anything worse,” Derek mumbles as he shifts to lie down next to Stiles, burying his face in his alpha’s shoulder.

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles calls out before they fall asleep.

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t almost die again.”

“Only if you won’t.”

Stiles thinks it’s reasonable enough. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Derek answers, voice deep as he gets closer to sleep.

“And they live happily ever after,” Stiles says under his breath, closing his eyes as sleep wraps around him.

And they did. Live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after a year and a half of fighting to finish this fic...i finished it. i feel like i just finished a marathon. it was only 30k and i still had the hardest time writing this for some reason but thanks to everyone to the support they gave this! so many people were excited by it that i could never completely give up on it. I hope it's close to what you guys were hoping for and that you enjoyed it!
> 
> you can find me right [ here](http://dude-its-bcn-hlls.tumblr.com/) on the tumblr. feel free to stop by and say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me at dude-its-bcn-hlls.tumblr.com where I post writing things, updates, complaints, me whining about why the hell would I do this to myself. It's really a joly ole time for everyone involved. And my ask is always open if you want to kindly encourage me to keep writing! Anyway. Comments, questions, concerns, and concrit is always welcomed here.


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